Pointless
by The Last Letter
Summary: Danny has been a ghost since 1812, now he's going back to school in modern times in Amity Park. There he meets so interesting people, and things start to happen. He's back, and trying to solve his own, and his love's murder.Rated for violence. COMPLETE!
1. 1812

I never could understand it. Day after day, night after night, the same old thing. It had seemed pointless at first. I was fourteen when I was killed in the year 1812, I had lived in Amity Park, and still do today. I couldn't tell you why I became a ghost, or why I decided to be a protecter of the city, instead of taking what I wanted like other ghosts did.

I guess a reason why I stayed was to look over my family. My mom and my dad are dead now, of course, it almost being two centuries later, I didn't see them again after thier funeral. They went on. I still watch over the branches of family. There's always been a Fenton in Amity Park. Granted, most of them all share the same name as my mother, my father or my cousin when they were alive.

My mother was Madeline Fenton, and she was one of the best people in the world. She cared, she didn't stop at anything if it was something that had me or anyone else really in their best interest. She was generally a happy person to be around.

My dad, Jack Fenton, was like a 'barrel full of monkeys.' He always had a joke, or a way to make you laugh. He was big, where my mother was small. They both lived full lives, they never had another kid though, and the way the spoke of me often, I wondered how much they were acting, even to each other.

My cousin, however, well there's a snob for you. Jasmine Fenton. She was always on the go, reprimanding someone for not being perfect. For being themselves. It was awful when it was happening to you, but it was just plain entertaining when it was happening to someone else.

The Fenton's of nowadays aren't all that different.

There's Madeline Fenton, who calls herself Maddie. She may be a little bit preoccupied, but she's just like my mom.

There's Jack, who's exactly like my dad, except, this Jack didn't use his brain to become a professor. This Jack is an inventor. Which I think is way cooler.

This Jasmine calls herself Jazz. She's not as bad as my cousin was. She's not all that snobby, and she doesn't yell at people for being themselves either, although she can be a little irratable. One thing you have to give her credit for is that she is dedicated. She knows what she wants, where she's going, and nothing's going to get in her way. You have to admire that.

I guess all that's left is me. Daniel Fenton. I call myself Danny, though, Daniel sounds a bit to uptight for me. Like I said, I'm a ghost. More importantly, I'm a _powerful_ ghost. One of my favourite things to do is shape-shift. When I became a ghost, my appearance changed. My eyes turned green, my hair turned white. My shape-shifting power is I can look like my human counter-part for up to forty-eight hours. My hair goes back to black, my eyes turn blue again.

I'm also like the unofficial protecter of the town. Not to say that ghost hunters don't try to hunt me down. Because they do. I don't think they've gotten their heads around the term 'good ghostie' yet. Did I mention that the ghost hunters are the Fenton's? Not so much Jazz, her being to practical for it, but, that doesn't matter.

I was getting bored just hanging around the ghost zone day after day, so I decided to have some fun. Most people wouldn't call this fun, but I would. I was going back to school for the first time in a hundred and nintey-eight years. I wanted to see what kind of trouble I could cause.

**Just an idea that popped into my head. I'll probably continue it, but there probably won't be a lot of updates unless reviewers persuade me otherwise. Just a warning. Oh, and if people do review, I'm glad to hear you like it, I really am, but the one sentance reviews kind of get on my nerves. Just another warning.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	2. The Barbie Doll Army

I knew a lot about schools these days, most ghost attacks having been at Casper High. I also knew what an assortment of kids were like. Hey, I don't purposely read minds, I just sometimes do . . . by accident. Some ghosts do purposely read minds and target their victims weakest point. I don't see why they would do that. Maybe just create more work for me.

Anyway, I had already registered at the High school, I would be starting in three days. The first of September. Every other kids bain, but, little did they know, this year wa about to become way more interesting.

I turned back into my human self and put on modern clothes. They were much more comfortable than what I was used to wearing. Also, having been around for a while, I also knew what to say and how to act. I was positive I could fit in. I wouldn't be an idiot and try to talk to the jocks or anything like that. I was just going to cause some . . . invisible troubles.

I walked into the school and picked up my scheduale. The secretary told me to stay put and she would get a person or two that would show me around the school. I wanted to tell her that I already knew my way around, but how weird would that have sounded, since I wasn't supposed to have ever been in Amity Park before?

A few people came and went. I was bored, so I considered on listening to their thoughts, just for something to do. Then, my escorts came. There were two of them, a boy and a girl, and they obviously knew each other and were good friends. They were two very different people, but they looked really close. I wondered if they were dating. I'd have to tune into their thoughts if they didn't tell me. The reason they were chosen was because one or both of them were always in the same class as me.

They approached me first. The guy was an african american, and he was carrying around what looked like a mini computer. I should know, I've been in the web more than enough times. And I do mean _in_.

"Hi, I'm Tucker Foley." He sounded a little to cheerful. "This is Samantha Manson."

"Sam." The girl corrected. She was goth looking, dressed in black and purple with black hair and purple eyes.

"Danny Fenton." I hadn't bothered to change my name, and I didn't think it would be a problem until . . .

"You're not related to Jazz Fenton are you?" I can be a real idiot sometimes.

I smiled at Tucker. "As far as I know there is no relation." _Of this centary_. I added in my mind.

"That's too bad. She's a sort of friend of ours." Tucker said as we left the office.

"Sort of meaning Tucker has a _huge_ crush on her." Sam teased.

"DO NOT!" Tucker yelled, everyone stopped and stared at him. He kept walking though, so I supposed that this was normal for him. To be stared at, I mean.

"Where are you from?" Sam asked.

"Very far away, actually. My parents died, so I was sent here to live." Not totally a lie, but not the complete truth either.

"That's to bad." Tucker sighed. "Right now there are over ten thousand Foley relatives alive. My family is huge."

"And for some odd reason he can get along with everyone of them." Sam rolled her eyes. "My parents think I'm a whack job. They think I should die my hair blonde and become a cheerleader." Her voice was all peppy for a minute and then faded into a scowl.

"No offence, but I can't see you as a cheerleader."

"That's the best compliment that you could have given her." Tucker laughed as we took our seats in my new homeroom.

"Quiet children." I turned toward the front of the room. There was a bald man standing there. He was really skinny, like a spaghetti noodle. "I am Mr. P Coltrain. I used to be a general in the army and I will discipline anyone as I see fit." He barked. He was used to giving out orders. Well . . . he hadn't met me yet.

"What army sir?" I asked, real sweet, "Was it the Barbie Doll one?" His face turned purple.

"WHO SAID THAT?" The ceiling tiles shook.

"I did." I stood up, not bothering to conceal the satisfactory look on my face. I could pretty much garuntee that I'd lived through more pain than he could give to me.

"What's your problem kid?" He snarled in my face.

_I'm dead sir._ I wanted to reply. "You." I replied in my angel voice.

"Well, then, what's your name?" He smiled. It was sickly sweet.

"Fenton, Danny," I replied. His smile stopped cold.

"You're last name is Fenton?" It seemed like the hold classroom froze.

"Did I stutter?" I asked, wondering what the deal was with the name.

"Well, then, Mr. Fenton, there's no need for discipline as long as you keep quiet." He returned to the front of the room.

"What was that all about?" I whispered to Sam, who was closer.

She picked up a piece of paper and wrote me a note. She passed it to me.

_The Fenton's around here are ghost hunters except for Jazz. They saved Mr. Coltrain's daughter from a ghost once, he's felt indebted to them ever since. Are you sure you're not related?_

With a glance at the teacher I wrote back.

_I already said, as far as I know there is no relation. It's possible, I suppose, but I don't feel like researching my family tree._

She read the note and nodded, putting it in her binder.

The bell rang and the three of us moved onto English.

"Hello students! My name is Mrs. DeLair. I know that this is the beginning of the school year, so I'm assigning a project. You get all through September and October to work on it. It has to be passed in on Halloween!" The teacher was waayy to happy.

"Partners?" Called a dimwitted looking boy.

"No partners unless there are siblings. You will be doing your family tree!" Great. Great. Great. I hate karma, you know that?

"What was that about not feeling like researching your family tree?" Sam whispered as the outline for the project was passsed out.

"Humph." I hissed back. But I could tell that the three of us were going to be good friends.

Turning back to my outline, I groaned, I was going to have to create a whole new family tree, _without_ using ghost powers. I don't think my teacher would like it if my project was glowing green. Not to say that she'd stay conscious enough to notice it.

**Let's end there. Here's a new chapter. I'm just sort of writing with no real aim. But, whatever. Hope you like it. I don't own any of it. Please review.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	3. 20 Questions Modified

Five more minutes. Five more minutes until lunch. Not that I wasn't happy for it. Even _I_ can't handle that much learning. Not that I was a real scholer when I was alive either. It's just, I didn't have to eat, and my new friends might see that as a little odd.

Oh well, let them think I'm aneroxic.

_RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG._

Books were shoved into book bags and kids climbed over each other to get to the door. Sam and I peeled Tucker up off the floor, seeing as he had gotten run over by football jock, Dash Baxter.

"Thanks." He said as soon as he was back up on his own two feet. "Now, LET'S EAT!" He announced, as though it were the most important thing in the world.

"Fine." Sam rolled her eyes and we filed outside and slumped under a tree.

"Let's play twenty questions!" Tucker said as he pulled out a lunch bag.

"Twenty what?" I asked, not familiar with the game.

"You've never heard of twenty questions?" Sam asked, digging into her salad. Tucker looked at her with disgust and I noticed that he was only eating meat. A vegetarian and full out carnivore? How did these two ever get to be friends?

"No, I haven't." I admitted.

"It's easy, we're going to modify it a bit. Someone asks a question and whoever they asked it to has to answer. Honestly." He added, glaring at Sam.

"What? I was _not_ going to tell you what type of underwear I was wearing at the time!" I didn't really want to know. Not at all.

"Anyway," Tucker went on as if she'd never spoken, "you got the gist of it?" I nodded. "Good, Sam, go first."

"Fine." She said, in the same, I don't care, voice. "Danny . . . ummmm, any siblings?"

"No. Tucker, any girlfriends?" I asked.

Sam groaned, I glanced at her quizically. "He thinks he's a ladies man," She explained, "When truthfully his only real date was . . . well . . . never I guess, if we're not counting his mom and two hundred cousins."

"Thanks for answering the question." He snapped.

"No problem." Sam lay on her back, her combat boots knocking against a tree trunk.

"Danny, any girlfriends?"

"No." I answered. "Sam," I said, and my mind went blank. Then, I remembered her salad. "Ever eat a piece of meat?"

She looked shocked. "Eww, no." Honesty is one of my skills. She wasn't lying.

"Tucker . . . did you ever have feelings for a guy?" She was evil, I had to give her props.

"No." He answered. He was lying.

"You're lying," I accused, without thinking about it.

"How do you know?"

"You've become restless, you're looking around everywhere, not concentrating on anything." I flipped off his hat. "You're sweating."

Sam started laughing. "You'll pay for that." He growled, standing up with his fists raised.

"Do your worst," I taunted him, knowing full well that if he hit me it would be no different than him hitting a bunch of bricks.

He swung a fist, and missed. I was sitting in the same tree Sam had been kicking. "How did you get up there so fast?" He asked, obviously awed.

"Reflexes. I'm constantly running from bullies." Again, not a total lie. Those damn ghosts will do anything to get you.

"Tucker, who did you like?" Sam asked, trying to get as much embarrassment from him as possible. Not that I would have done the same thing if I was in her combat boots.

"Not telling."

"So you once and for all admit that it was true?"

"Yes," Tucker said defiantly. Then he realized his mistake. "No. No, I didn't mean that, it was true!"

"We're not going to dislike you for it," I comforted him as he curled up into a ball.

"Yeah, we'll tease you for a bit, but we won't hate you. After all, I always suspected as much."

"As much?" Tucker's head popped up. "I am not gay, Samantha. It was just one thought. ONE!"

"Whatever. So?" She prodded.

"Mmmmmsmmmmmm mmmmmmtmmmmm." Tucker mumbled.

"I didn't quite catch that." Sam whispered sweetly.

"Don't care."

"He said Dash Baxter." I answered, hey, he said that honesty was the game, and right now, I couldn't honestly say that it was my favourite game to play.

"Oh, well. I can't say I blame you Tucker. _Almost_ everyone has had a thought about Dash and some point in time."

"Do I sense sparks?" I teased her.

"No." She answered coldly. For some reason this pleased me, I suppose my old manners made me over protective of her.

"That's rich bud. Sam. With Dash?" Tucker burst out laughing.

"Are you saying I couldn't get a date with him?" Sam rebuttled instantly.

"That's what I'm saying, Princess. Care to prove me wrong?" Tucker's voice dripped of a challenge.

"Stakes?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. They were old hands at betting against each other.

"You get a date with him, I don't eat a piece of meat until Christmas. You crash and burn, you have to follow Paulina around until Christmas."

"Time limit?" Sam didn't seem bothered by following this Paulina around if she lost, though, from Tucker's voice, he seemed to think that it would. I wanted to see this Dash Baxter, see what he looked like. Although, he was probably a football jock.

"Hmmmmm," Tucker was thinking. "Danny, what's your mother's birthday?"

"September twenty-third." I rattled automatically.

"You've got twenty days." Tucker held out his hand. "We start tomorrow."

"Done." Sam took his hand.

Oh my. Between this, my fake family tree, avoiding meeting the Fenton's of this century and being a ghost, I wasn't going to survive to see Christmas.

**There's a new chapter. It's really short but they probably will be. They chapters may get longer as the story progresses. I'd like ideas on what Danny's going to do for his project, you'll get your credit. Promise.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	4. Sam Arrives, Tucker Loves His Meat

"Hey, Danny." Tucker greeted me at the corner by the school.

"Hi," I answered.

"Do you think that Sam will actually try to win the bet?" Tuckre sounded fearful. I couldn't blame him, she looked really determined.

"Yes, I do." Worried lines creased his forhead.

"Help me sabatoge her!" He pleaded, spinning in front of me and grabbing the collar of my shirt.

"What?" I asked, bewildered as I tried to shake him off. It wasn't working.

"Flirt with her! She likes you! She'll give up on the bet if you say you like her." He dropped to his knees, grabbing onto my pantleg. "PLEASE! I LOVE MY MEAT! I WILL NOT GIVE IT UP!"

"Tucker," I shook my leg, hard. His teeth rattled but he held on. "Get off me. Get off me and we'll talk reasonably." Tucker unwound himself and stood up, brushing off his pants.

"Fine. Glad we had that talk. Thanks for the help." Then, he strode off, practically running, without another word.

I stood there confused for a minute, until what he said sunk in. "Tucker! Wait!" I ran after him. I caught up and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around to face me.

"What?" Oh, you are so not innocent, so don't even use that voice. I thought.

"I didn't say I would do it. I won't help you, I won't sabotage her."

"Why not?"

"Because-" I started angrily, then I noticed something, and gasped. "Tucker." I whispered, my mouth to dry to say or do anything else.

"What?" He asked and turned. His jaw hit the ground three seconds after mine.

Sam had arrived.

Her beautiful black locks that shone in the sun, were dyed blonde. Platnium blonde. Her usual combat boots and baggy clothes. Gone. Instead there was a tight _pink_ tube top that didn't cover her stomach and a short little white skirt, and white heels.

She looked beautiful, yes, but fake too. I liked her more the other way, it was more natural for her. This outfit made her look pained.

"She ain't changing her mind." I whispered to Tucker, "Nothing will change her mind."

A group of cheerleaders glared at her as the football team began to drool. A big stupid looking blonde one sauntered over to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

He spoke to her, and Sam laughed, her face was covered in make-uo.

"Dash Baxter?" I asked.

"Dash Baxter." Tucker confirmed. Dash put his hand on the small of her back and led her into school. The bet had begun, and Tucker had no chance of winning.

**Really short chapter, still looking for ideas on Danny's family tree. If you're the person who sent me the ghost idea, please pm me and tell me your name if you want your credit because I lost your review and I can't go to the reviews page because my computer is to old. Thanks! Any, ideas appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complain if you want to, but I probably ain't gonna listen. Review if you want to, I'm gonna listen. Don't own it.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	5. After Eighty Years

I couldn't believe it. Sam had only been my friend for a day or two, but I felt like I had known her forever. And, well, I could honestly say that her being a blonde was the funniest thing I had ever seen. Tucker and I watched her all morning.

She flirted.

She giggled.

She fit in with the popular's.

It was lunch and she and Paulina Sanchez were giving each other makeovers. The Paulina that Sam was suppossed to follow around if she lost the bet. The two were old enemies.

Tucker was digging into his beef, chicken, fish and everything in between meat salad. He gave it that name to make Sam mad, because it was just meat in a bowl covered in sauce.

"I'm so going to lose."

"Big time." I agreed.

"Not helping." Tucker gave me the evil eye.

"Don't care." I replied.

Dash put his arm around Sam's shoulder. It made me . . . jealous? Why would I feel jealous? After all, I just met Sam yesterday. Why should I feel jelous? Old manners maybe? I wish. I really do. I liked her. I did. And it saddened me too, because she could be my soul mate, and I couldn't have her.

I'm dead.

And it really sucks sometimes.

Sam sat between me and Tucker in english, waving at Dash and trading notes with Starr and Paulina.

"Want to do the family tree thing at my house?" Sam asked, reading another note.

"Can't. Got to do some tutoring after school today." Tucker answered.

"Danny?" She asked, sending the note over a kid's head.

"I've got nothing better to do." I didn't. I wasn't looking forward going back to the Ghost Zone right now. Walker said that today was the day I was going to have my brain turned into a pile of goo so he could skin my alive and hang my skin on the wall.

"Great." She said, catching a note.

I glanced at it, saw my name, and read it.

_OMG! You'll never believe what Starr just said?_

_What? _That was Sam's writing.

_She just said that the new kid, Danny Fenton, was HOTT! With an extra T. Girl has got to be tripping, I mean, after all, he's so geeky. He doesn't play sports, hangs out with Tucker Foley. I mean, come on! What do you think?_

I read what Sam wrote before she threw it back. _I think that your right. He's not hott, but you have to admit, there's like little kid cuteness about him._

Little kid cute? Was that all she thought of me? I mean, I was sure I could come up with a lot more words than just cute for her.

_I suppose, but I'm not into babies._ Came the reply. I ground my teeth. At least this was last class.

The bell rang before Sam could write back.

Tucker took off for his tutoring gig, I followed Sam to her house.

***

It was huge. A mansion!

"You actually live here?" I asked.

"Yes. Unfortunatley." She sighed and opened the door. She led me up to her room. "Get out the outline and stuff, I've got to change." She called before heading into what looked like a closet. I dug through my bag and found the project outline. I also pulled out the scissors, paper, rulers and all that fun stuff.

Sam came out of her closet wearing jeans and a black top with purple sparkly words that spelled out, _And you think I care because . . .? _I approved. She went and stood in front of her mirror.

"Danny, come here." She beckoned me over. I went to stand behind her. Sam flipped up her hair. "Pull out the pins please."

I saw a bunch of long, painful looking things threaded throughout her hair. I pulled them out as gently as I could.

"Thanks," She sighed. And yanked off her sunshine yellow hair. Her black locks tumbled down her back, glad to be free.

"It was a wig?" I was surprised, I never suspected a thing.

"Of course, I wouldn't give in and actually dye my hair. I rather like my natural colour. It makes a statement." She grinned and we sat down on the floor. She pulled a leather bound book from her desk drawer.

"My family history." She rolled her eyes. "How many generations do we need to do?"

I looked at the paper. "Ummm, kids of this generation, parents generation, grandparents generation. Include Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and any steps or in laws." I grinned. "Poor Tucker."

Sam laughed. "I know. It's so sad, it's going to take him until next Halloween to get his kids generation done."

"Do you think she'll still mark him after eighty years?" I asked.

"He better hope she's still _alive_ by the time he's done."

**Don't own it. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless in the form of constructive cristism. Reviews motivate me.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	6. The Ghost Of Amity

We worked on the project most of the afternoon, but we soon got bored after getting a couple of people written down. I was surprised at Sam's small family, but I was trying to make mine as small as possible. All of my relatives were only child's. I had decided what I was going to do. I was using ghosts and my family. I wasn't far off.

Anyway, Ember was my mom, Skulker my dad. Walker my grandfather and Desiree my grandmother. Oh! And the Box Ghost was my little brother. I didn't use their real names though. Ember because Ellie. Skulker became Sullivan. Walker was Wallace. Desiree was Diana and the Box Ghost was simbly B.G, which stood for Billy Grant. Hey, it's not going to glow. So no complaining!

Near five thirty we got bored, so we decided to watch a movie.

"What do you want to watch?" Sam asked, leading me downstairs.

"I have no idea, what do you have?"

"Everything." She answered. She wasn't kidding. There was a _HUGE_ flatscreen and the walls were covered in DVD's and videos. "How about a horror flick? It's really cheesy and not all that scary, but it's one of my favourites."

"Sure, I do like watching those, it's fun to go in the theatre and burst out laughing as everyone else screams."

She smiled, going over to one of the far walls, I flopped on the couch. "Tell me about it. People are so scared, when it's like, you can hear something moving in the closet, it smells, don't you think that the alien might be in there?"

"It's so obvious, and the way things happen it's so predictable, you only need to watch about three minutes of it before you know the whole plot."

"You need to watch that much of the movie?" She mocked, "I only have to see the commercials."

"I'm sure," I snorted. "What's the name of this anyway?"

"It's called _The Ghost Of Amity._" She said in a chilling voice, sliding a video in the VCR.

"What's it about?"

"It's not really a horror flick kind of thing, more as a documentary, but they get all these actors running around screaming in a haunted house."

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's about this teenage boy back in the early 18OO's and how he was murdered, people say that his ghost still haunts his old house, but I don't believe it."

I got a really bad feeling in my gut. "Sounds . . . funny."

"It is," She agreed, sitting down beside me, remote in hand. "It's also really interesting."

"I can belive that."

The lights turned out and the movie began. She had surround sound, so it was loud and you were really drawn into the story. Though, I already knew the story.

A person screamed and the letters THE GHOST OF AMITY appeared in big, bright red letters on a black background.

"In 1812 a fourteen year old boy was murdered in his home in Amity Park. The family was devastated, mourning for their only son, but how gone is he really? Is the boy still alive today?" A voice rang out as the letters faded. A woman with blonde hair appeared, standing in front of a falling down old house. My old house.

"We say yes. The boy, Daniel, who was killed all those years ago, is still in Amity Park, protecting his house from unwanted visitors. Thirteen Casper High Students are going in Danny old house. People say that the ghost thinks that these people are his murderer and he wants revenge and to keep them away from his family."

The camera showed a line of buff guys and skinny girls. "Everyone has been given a camera. They will go into the house _alone_. One or two at a time. We'll see what they see. Trisha Convi is going in first." A brunette waved and walked in the front door.

"I've been told I have the gift. I can contact spirits." Trisha said. "I'm going to try to comminacate Daniel and get him to go to the afterlife. I have a tape recorder, so if he replies then we'll hear it.

"Daniel, if you're here please make a sign." She was standing inside the kitchen. My heart felt like it was being pulled out of my chest. I missed it so much. I hadn't gone back since my death. Anyway, she was standing there and a cupboard door flew open, and slammed shut.

"Daniel, why didn't you go on to the afterlife? Why remain?" She stopped talking for a long time.

She left soon after that, and all of the other kids explored a different room. I felt like I could be physically sick. My room, the spare room, my parents bedroom . . . I almost cried.

After an hour the credits came on and so did the lights.

"What did you think?" Sam asked, turning off the volume. I heard the tape start to rewind.

"I think it's very interesting." I answered, being careful. "Why?"

"Well, I'm interested in the supernatural, and I've always wanted to visit the house, but I can't work up the courage to go alone. Will you come with me?"

"You don't think Daniel will try to chop us up?"

"Those snotty kids all went in there with cameras, if a revenge stricken ghost is going to go after somebody it would be one of them. Besides, I think that the 'ghost' thing is all media hype. I mean, I know that there's ghosts, and I know that some of them are bad, but I don't think that a ghost would actually just pick one spot and stay there."

"Perceptive. I'll go, but I'm kind of a wuss." It wasn't true, but if I started shaking or something I could always blame it on nerves.

"That's fine. As long as you come."

I looked out the window, we still had hours of daylight left. "Are we going now?"

"Yes, I don't want you to chicken out on me."

"Is it within walking distance?" I had know idea how to get there anymore. All the old roads had been destroyed, unused so they had grown over.

"Yeah, shouldn't take us more than twenty minutes."

"Counting hiking through a forest?"

"Forty minutes." She sighed. We each grabbed a backpack and filled it with stuff like, food (don't need it), flashlights (can see in the dark), matches (I can light a fire by myself thank you very much) and other things that she might needs.

We set off down an almost invisible path.

"So, did they ever catch the guy who killed Daniel?"

"No. Of course, I don't think they really cared much. There's been talk though, of his living relatives asking for the case to be cracked open and for them suing the killer's living relatives."

"Oh, so, how much is known about Daniel?"

"Not much, people are too scared to go in the house for long. All that's gathered is his name is Daniel, and they got that off of his headstone in back of the house."

"So, how do they know who his living relatives are?"

"The relatives have the house deed, but, well, they're not going public with it. I want to find out more though, about Daniel I mean."

"Why?" I was suddenly cautious, did she suspect me?

"Oh, no reason, just, he's an Amity Park legend. Besides being the most ghost infested place in the world and having Danny Phantom, the mystery of Daniel is all we've got. And people are scared of ghosts, so that's not a good tourist attraction, people think Danny Phantom's a menace, so, unless you're a ghost hunter, no tourist attraction there. But, Daniel's got mystery, people are intrigued. Tourist attraction. I just like the mystery."

"Oh." I relaxed.

We walked in silence until we came to the clearing where my old house stood. The world spun. The world was right.

Daniel had come back to haunt . . .

And find his murderer.

**Thanks to Kiomori for the project idea.** ** I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complain if you want to, but I ain't gonna listen unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it. And Merry Christmas or Happy whatever you celebrate. Bah Humbug.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	7. I Can Do This

"This is such a lovely place, I can't believe people would just let it go to waste." Sam commented, looking up.

"Really though, all because of a ghost that isn't even here." We laughed at the lie. The lie that she didn't know was a lie. "Do you want to check out the yard first?" I asked. For some morbid reason, I wanted to see my headstone.

"Sure." She shrugged. "They say that there was a really big garden here, it was supposed to be the most beautiful garden of that time, I want to see if it's still growing."

"Cool, let's just start here and walk around."

Sam didn't say anything but walked forward, I was left to follow her. Even though I was here to relive my life and look at my house and (maybe) solve my own murder, I couldn't help staring at Sam. She didn't notice, she was looking for my mother's garden, and yes, it was beautiful. But, she was way more beautiful.

The way the sinking sun danced across her pale cheeks and brushed through her midnight locks, it made me sad, for the first time in my afterlife, I was mourning my actual life. With a beating heart and warm skin, and no freaky powers. I'd never felt this way about someone before. I was just going to have to live with it for eternity though. I couldn't tell her. I wouldn't ruin her life like that.

"Found it!" Sam announced, breaking me out of my trance.

"The garden?" I asked.

"Yes, that's what I was looking for." She teased, and continued forward.

I closed my eyes and braced myself. I wasn't going to cry. I opened my eyes, and was hit with memories I hadn't touched for decades, scared of what they would reveal.

My mother weeding the garden.

My father and mother dancing on the back lawn with the garden in the background.

Playing hide and seek among the roses, with Jasmine hiding in the violets.

It was all there in front of me, painted in black and white.

The garden had changed so much, but it was still beautiful and recognizable. The sunflowers bowed their heads, violets made sweet scents swirl around the air. But I bypassed them all, my gaze fell to the middle of the garden. I hoped it was still there, I hope the shape had still been retained.

"Sam," I touched her arm, making sure that I hit her t-shirt, so I didn't freeze her.

"What?"

"Look at the roses."

The roses. My mother's pride and joy. Her favourite flower. _My_ favourite. The bright colour of the red drew your attention to the middle of the garden instantly.

"They're in the shape of a heart."

"They are."

"It's amazing that the shape is still there after no care for almost a century." Sam marveled, moving closer. "This garden must have seen a lot of love and care."

"You have no idea," I muttered.

"What?" She asked, spinning around.

"Do you want to move on?" I invented, just a bit unwillingly to leave the comfort of the garden and the fragrence of the roses.

"Sure." She gave me a strange look. "You look upset, is everything okay?"

"It's just, my mother loved roses. These remind me so much of her."

"Cherish what memories you have, don't force them away." Sam advised. "But, let's move on." We walked forward in a comfortable silence. We soon left the garden and the side of the house behind.

We came to the back of the house.

The old porch swing creaked in the slight breeze, facing a tiny wooden fence, overlooking the sunset. The fence was covered in vines. Memories came back to me, still bittersweet in all their glory.

Dad trying to read me a book.

Eating brownies on the back porch.

Dousing Jasmine with a bucket full of cold water.

A snowball fight with the neighbours kid.

"Danny, there it is." Sam's voice once again broke through the fog of rememberance.

"What?"

"The stone." Stone? Oh . . . My grave.

"Are we going to go closer?" I wanted to, I felt like I had to, pay my respects to myself and all that.

"Sure." We moved forward to slow for my taste, but I couldn't hurry, I didn't want to tip her off to anything.

Sam knelt down on the earth and brushed leaves away from the gray weathered cracked stone. Her fingers traced the letters of my first name, _Daniel._ The brushed the unreadable last name, and the fading, almost gone dates of my birth and death. I couldn't imagine what she'd do if she found out that the person's whose body she was kneeling over was standing beside her.

"It's so sad, isn't it?" She whispered.

"What is?"

"How he died. He'll never get to grow up or anything."

"He's been dead a long time, maybe he's come to terms with it." I suggested, knowing full well that _Daniel_ was still walking that line.

"How does one come to terms with being dead? Especially when someone has been murdered and no justice has been brought?" I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. I crouched down beside her.

"You're crying?"

"I just feel like I know him. Strange isn't it?" No. "But, that still doesn't answer my questions." She pointed out.

"I don't know." Truth be told, I had never really wondered about my killer. Sure, I'd had stray thoughts like why and who, but really, wouldn't you? Besides, I figured that enough justice has been given, by now whoever it was would be dead. Why trouble the present with ghosts of the past? No pun intended.

Sam stood up, brushing off her knees. "Let's go in."

I copied her, following her as we headed to the front door. I drew in a deep breath as we walked up the front steps.

_I can do this._

I took one look inside and ran out.

_No I can't!_

** have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it. **

**~DI4MGZ~**


	8. Holy Honest Hannah!

I darted outside, shaking. I hid in the cover of the trees so I wouldn't see the house or smell the roses, but the unbearable memories still haunted me.

Inatials carved into a tree.

A rotting tree house.

I closed my eyes and ran ahead. I thought of Sam, left behind, but I still ran forward, faster than I had ever before. Pushing myself. Forcing myself forward. Tears fell from my eyes, and I collapsed by a brook. I wanted to leave this place too, it hurt as much as the house, but I had no strength left.

I laid on the ground, curled up in a ball, crying and breathing the wet woodsy smell. After a few minutes I heard footsteps. They stopped beside me. Someone sat down. It was Sam. I was still crying, and she knew it.

Hesitantly, she put out her hand, and brushed her fingers through my hair. She shivered, and I knew that not even my hair was safe from the freezing chill of my ice powers.

"Danny, what's wrong?" Her voice broke the silence after I had calmed down. I pushed myself off the ground and her hand fell back into her lap.

"I don't know." I was lying through my teeth, and there was a look in her that made me think that she didn't believe me, but she went along with it. "It must have been that the roses reminded me so much of my mother and I couldn't handle remembering my family. I miss them so much, but they're gone." I could feel the tears coming again. I choked them back.

"I won't pretend I know how you feel. My family has never really cared about me, so I can't mourn what I never had. Eventually though, you'll realize that while you need to remember them, you can move on. Be happy while remembering their spirit."

"They've been gone for so long though. My memories are almost lost to time."

"I don't know what to tell you. I'm not an expert on this, time doesn't heal _everything_ but it does ease the pain. Do you want to go home?" She asked, looking at the darkened sky.

"Okay." We stood up, and started out. I took one last look back at the brook. The brook didn't hurt, because now it held a memory that wasn't happy, but contented.

"And don't worry Danny. We don't have to go back to the house."

"I . . . I want too. But, maybe not at night. Maybe this weekend?" I suggested.

"Well, I'm busy Saturday, and if you're not doing anything Sunday we could go then, but it's Tucker's grandmother's birthday, so he wouldn't be able to come. She's turning one hundred and three."

"What are you doing Saturday?"

"Dash is taking me to the movies." Sam grinned. My jaw went slack.

"He asked you out."

"Tucker had better kiss his meat goodbye." An evil glint entered Sam's eye.

"He's not going to be happy."

"Yes, but as unhappy as he might be, me following Paulina around until Christmas would be hell." We emerged from the woods and onto the street. We turned toward her house.

"Why do I believe that that's an understatement?"

"Because it is." She grinned, opening her front door. "I'll see you tomorrow." She smiled and shut the door. I turned and walked down the street. After walking for a bit I was going to go ghost and fly to the Zone, but a newspaper headline caught my eye.

CENTURY OLD CASE REOPENED

I walked inside and bought the paper. I headed to the park, and once I was far enough away from people I read the article.

_The murder case of 'Daniel' from 1812 is being reopened by modern day relatives. Unwillingly to come forward with their names we'll call them Mrs. X, Mr. X and Child X. Mr and Mrs X are inventors and need the money, plus, as Mrs. X says, "Our family has been plagued by the grief, even those of us who did not know Daniel. All we want is for our ancestor to rest in peace."_

_Child X, a blooming genius, says that courts must take immidiate action for their case. And Child X is right. With a case this old, what little evidence there might have been is quickly disappearing. A reward is being offered by the city. One thousand dollars to whatever detective can crack the case. But, said detective has to be registered and trained, and must appear before the courts of Amity before setting foot on the property, as the site is a historic relic. _

_So, anyone who wants to take a crack at this old case, you can come starting October 1st!_

WHAT!? Sam was right, my case was coming back. As weird as this sounds, I don't want this! Whatever happens, the person has met their maker. But, if this is actually happening, I want to solve the mystery myself, before a whole bunch of uncaring people wreck my home.

Sam would help, I know she would. So, we've got nineteen days to solve this, before I really do have to quit school and start haunting!

***

The next morning I sauntered into Casper with Tucker, who was cursing at his mini computer. I glanced toward Dash's group, and sure enough, there he was, with his arm around Sam. Meeting my gaze, she smiled and pulled away from Dash. Her blonde wig was in place again, looking so natural I had to wonder if it really was a wig. If I hadn't been imagining things yesterday.

"Oh, Tucker," Sam sang.

"Oh no. WHEN?" Tucker cried out, falling on his knees.

"Tomorrow." Sam fluttered her eyelashes. Turning out to me she held out the paper I'd read last night. "Did you see this?"

"Yeah, and I want to crack it. Care to help?"

"Sure you can handle it?"

"Yes. Sunday still?"

"Sure." She grinned and headed back to Dash. He wrapped his arm around her waist and waved to Paulina and Starr.

"Shouldn't Paulina be holding a grudge? I mean, Dash was her boyfriend?" Tucker had stopped wailing and was studying the group.

"How should I know?" I mean, I could know, if I cared to break into her mind, but I was to lazy too at the moment.

The bell was about to ring and students began turning toward classes, but a wall was blasted apart and everyone in the hall was thrown into the lockers. Except me. I slipped into the bathroom and changed from my human self into my ghost form. _Danny Phantom_ people called me. I don't mind the name, after all, it's better than what some ghosts (*cough* Skulker *cough* *cough* Walker *cough*) have called me.

"OH PHANTOM!" I groaned. _Why oh why did it have to be _her!? Now don't get my wrong, I've got nothing against her personally really, but, honestly, would you let the ghost of honesty into your school if you were hiding _my_ secrets? I think not.

I left the bathroom through the wall. "Honest Hannah." I snarled.

"There you are deary." She smiled. I got scared.

"What do you want, Hannah?"

"I just dropped by."

"You never _just_ drop by. Why are you here?"

"Well, I heard about the Daniel case."

"And?"

"Well, I think that it's just awful. Especially with the life that Daniel is living now. Oops, I mean the afterlife. Isn't he in love? With a human?" Did I mention that Honest Hannah _knows_ every truth. She knows when you're lying, and if she just even looks at you, she knows everything.

"A human?" I heard a girl's voice say. And it wasn't Sam. Hannah and I spun around at the same time.

"Jasmine Fenton." Hannah smiled. "Oh, sorry, you prefer Jazz, am I right?"

"Yes. Now what about Daniel?"

"Do you want to hear the story?" Hannah grinned.

"Now, Hannah," I scolded. "Don't forget your rules."

"Oh, fiddle sticks! Those stupid rules." No one knows anything about Hannah, except that she's about seventeen with brown hair with bits of blonde and brown eyes, and that she's wears a whtie dress. And her rules. "I don't like those rules Danny Phantom. And you know that you can lift them." She fluttered her eyelashes at me. She was trying to flirt with me. HA!

"Sorry Hannah, but I can't have you spilling Daniel's secrets!"

"Please, you can contact him through your mind. Speak to him! Ask his permission." See, if you know about her rules and tell her about them, she has to obey by them. If not, then she can just blurt out whatever whenever, see, I reminded her that she needs Daniel's permission to tell his story.

"No. I won't. Now go Hannah."

"I don't see fit to go just yet. There are so many truths around that I'm just _dying_ to tell." I looked into her mind, and saw yarns of truths. Failures, deaths, abuse, loves, break-ups. I fought them all back and fired at her.

"Good-bye _DANIEL PHANTOM!_" Hannah cackled as she faded out of sight. I disappeared into a wall, and landed by an unoccupied set of lockers in human form.

"Did you see that?" Tucker asked when we finally got to homeroom. In english I got a note from Sam, who was sitting with Starr today.

_What do you think she meant by Daniel Phantom? Do you think he could be the Daniel of the mystery?_

_Maybe_. I wrote back. _Anything's possible. Besides, even if he is what difference does it make? We can't track him down or anything. We'll just have to investigate._

_fine._

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it. Well, actually, Honest Hannah is my own creation. And, I know nothing of the law and all of that, so I made my own. If anyone has a problem with it you can go stick your head into a bucket of black paint because I don't care!**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	9. Dash And Broken Glass

Is it possible for a ghost to be sick? I doubt it, but I seriously do feel sick. It's Saturday and I can't keep my mind off of Sam's date. Maybe if I left the Zone, maybe I could spy on her, you know, invisible. It had potential to work. Besides, I was really getting bored of pacing.

Making my mind up, I left the Ghost Zone. I went intangable and went into the theatre. There they were. Dash was choking down popcorn while Sam looked at him absolutely disgusted. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the screen, which was a horror flick. Perfect.

I snuck up behind her and whispered in her ear, "You are looking to solve my murder case."

"Daniel?" She asked. Much to my great disappointment she didn't sound scared.

"My murder." I whispered again.

"What about it?" Sam spoke with the cool air that she had the day she and Tucker had made the bet. I'd already witnessed the effects it had had on Tucker.

"If you solve this, I won't kill anyone. Fail and murders will be comitted. I want no detectives near my house."

"Done."

I didn't reply to that, however, I went to the front of the theatre. Call my crazy, obsessed, a sad little miser, but I stared at her for the entire movie. Well, what was left of it, and there was a good hour.

Dash kept inahling the popcorn. Sam tried her best to ignore him. Afterwards, he took her to the Nasy Burger and ordered her an actual burger. From an actual cow. Needless to say, this did not go over well.

"What did you just order me?"

"A burger with extra pickles." Dash answered, completely indifferent. Watch out bud, I thought toward him, hell hath known no fury like a woman scorned. And in this case, this was Sam, who was about ten times scarier on her own.

"I don't eat meat you to faced ugly little meat eating son of a b-" Sam's long string of curses was broken off by Dash. He'd stood up, like she had to yell, and kissed her. Her face still in shock, Dash was able to drag her outside, to an area where no one else was around.

"I like it when a woman gets mad." He whispered seductively in her ear. Sam squirmed as he kissed her again.

"Get off me!" She cried, shoving his muscular chest, but she wasn't strong enough. Soon he had her shoved up against a wall.

His hands moved up and down her sides, his mouth never leaving hers. She fought, violently, but he just held on tighter. His hands moved against her thighs, coming to stop just before his fingers brushed her panties. His hands, god how I was coming to hate the things and especially what they were attatched to, came up to cup one of her breasts. Sam screamed, but only I heard the sound.

Dash's hands moved forcefully up to her skirt. I was about to go and help her, like I should have done minutes ago, but Skulker chose a _lovely_ time to show up.

With a low growl I went after him. It took me ten minutes to get rid of him and open a portal to take him back to the Zone.

I went back to the abandoned parking lot that Dash had dragged Sam too. She was crying now. Her underwear lay on the ground and her shirt was ripped. I could see through the fabric, and what he was making her do. I turned back into human me, and approached the monster.

"Dash!" I yelled, "Get away from her." I sounded forceful.

"What are you going to do about it?" He was mocking. Poor, poor Dash. A human that weak couldn't hurt me anymore than a piece of paper could have hurt me when I was alive. "Are you going to fight me?"

"If you're not to scared to come after me." I taunted. Dash growled, and pushed Sam away. Her long black locks covered her face as she hit the pavement.

I didn't move as the ugly blonde thing hulked toward me. He took a swing, and hit the bricks behind me. I took a swing and smiled as his nose crunched.

"My dose!" He howled. "You thtupid idit! You brode my dose!" He went off muttering something about a hospital. I ran to Sam, who had curled up in the fetal position. She was still crying.

"Sam, are you okay?" It was a stupid question, I know, but still . . .

She didn't answer, but she turned her heard and buried her face into my shoulder, she threw her arms around my waist and sobbed harder. I rubbed her back in circles. Eventually her small body wasn't shaking as much. I took her chin in my hand and made her look at me.

Her pale face was streaked with lines of mascara. Her eyes were swollen and puffy.

"You okay?"

"For now." She choked out. I stood and offered her my hand. She took it, and put an arm over her chest. I remembered her ripped shirt, and how you could see everything, Dash having stolen her bra. I tugged off my own t-shirt and handed it to her. She accepted it.

"Want me to take you home?" I asked.

"I guess, but I really don't want too, I wish there was somewhere else I could go . . . " Sam trailed off and looked at me hopefully.

"Well, I can't take you to my house, but I do know a place you can go. It's not much, but it's abandoned, and no one can find you until you're ready to leave." And I do mean no one, those stupid ghosts couldn't even find me there.

"Okay, thanks." She attempted a smile, and then faded off to silence. I lead her out through an alley. For the first time I was truly tempted to read her mind, to know what she was thinking. I . . . had too, I needed to know what she was thinking about.

Wait, why don't I just _ask_ her?

"Hey Sam." Her head shot up, like she was completely surprised, or unaware.

"Yeah?"

"What're you thinking about?" She looked at me, like she was deciding on whether or not to trust me with her thoughts.

"I dunno, just about Dash I guess."

"It's kind of stupid to just tell you to forget about it, isn't it?"

"Just a bit, but I would if I could. At least he didn't . . . I mean . . . Oh, you know."

"I do. Here we are." I stopped in front of an abandoned building.

"Where are we?"

"Just in the woods."

Sam stepped forward and looked at the place. "It looks almost like a bomb shelter. But, what's it doing way out here?"

"I dunno anything about it, I just found it one day. I've never found any evidence of anyone else coming here."

"Cool. Thanks Danny."

"No problem." She walked forward and opened the door. I followed her inside.

It was just a room with three cots shoved against one wall and a fireplace. I'd added a table and a couple of chairs I'd gotten from the side of the road.

Sam went straight to one of the beds and curled up on it. She sighed and I sat on the floor beside her bed. I leaned my head back against the mattress.

"You don't think Dash will tell anyone will you?" Sam asked, drawing a blanket around her.

"I really doubt it, because then he'd have to tell people how his nose got broken. It wouldn't matter anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because I caught Mr. Baxter's 'fight' on tape. You weren't in the camera shot though." It was technically true, I could transfer whatever I saw onto a video.

"How'd you manage that?" Don't forget, Sam, I thought, curiousity killed the cat.

"I have my ways." I tried to remain eleusive, but I knew as well as she probably did that I couldn't lie to her. I hoped she didn't know how much I liked her, because then I'd have to leave, and that would kill me. Figuritivley.

"You're not going to tell me about those 'ways' are you?" Sam laid down on her stomach so that her face was level with mine.

"No."

"I'm going to find out."

"No you're not."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. . . Or you'll tell me?"

"No."

"No what? I won't find out or you won't tell me?"

"Both?"

"Are you sure because you know that I know that I can and will find out?"

"Yes. No? Wait, what?" What did she just say? Did I just agree to something? Someone explain!

"Thank you Danny."

"For what?"

"For admitting that you're hiding something."

"When did I do that?"

"HA!"

"What?" Seriously, someone needs to explain this to me. Oh, wait, never mind, it's the female mind, the only thing that cannot be figured out!

"Forget about it Danny."

Feeling childish I stuck out my tongue at her.

"Are we still going to the house tomorrow?" She asked, I wouldn't have thought that she would have wanted to go, but, oh well.

"Do you want to?"

"I need something to distract me." She shrugged.

"Sure, I don't mind going." Actually, I was pretty sure I still minded going, but, I needed to solve this before I became full time haunt.

"Great, now, shouldn't we be going back?" I looked outside.

"When did it get dark out?"

"What answer do you want?"

"It was a rhetorical question."

"So?"

"Let's just go."

"Fine."

***

So I am an obsessed little ghost deserving your pity. It's three in the morning and I'm sitting, invisible, in Sam's room watching her sleep. Keeping time with her breathing, I was trying to figure out my feelings for her.

I knew it wasn't a silly little crush. I knew it was more than a friend. I think it's what I feared. I'm pretty sure I'm . . . I'm . . . In . . . In

LOVE!

I think I love her! It's killing me. I can't be with her, maybe I should just leave. That would be the best, just go back to the Ghost Zone for good. Drop out of school.

But the case!

Okay, solve the case, drop out of school, go back to the Ghost Zone for good.

But I'd still have to come back to Amity to kick ghosts butts, and, I'd see her. She wouldn't know who I was, but I'd know her. I'd watch her grow up and leave Amity. Or stay in Amity and get married and have kids.

I wonder if ghosts can cry?

***

Sunday. I'll be spending all day with her today. It was either heaven or hell. Or heaven inside of hell. Either way, it was both pleasure and pain.

"Hey Danny."

I turned as Sam walked toward me.

"Hey Sam."

"Ready?"

"For all it's worth, no, not after the last episode, but I'm going anyway."

"Couldn't you have just said as ready as I'll ever be?"

"Maybe, but then I wouldn't have gotten to say no, a word you really seem to hate."

"I'm warning you, I will find out what you're hiding."

"Go ahead."

"Fine."

"Why do most of our conversations end like that?" I asked.

"What? With fine?"

"Yeah. It's the only way our conversations end."

"Because you're always a jerk."

"Ouch." I grabbed my chest and she laughed.

"Here we are." I looked out and there stood my house. "Are you sure you're okay to do this?"

"Positive." I answered.

"Okay, so, you look around downstairs and I'll look upstairs." She suggested as she opened the front door.

"Fine." I said without thinking.

"Now who's saying fine?" She teased.

"Fine." I grumped again without thinking.

Sam poked me in the chest, and stepped inside. We were greeted by the staircase and rooms seperating off. Sam gave me a last smile before going upstairs. I went to the kitchen.

The small room had always been my favourite in the house. It was cozy, comfortable and faced the garden. I ran my hand over the old wood table, and picked up a yellowing paper that was left there.

_The blood of the loved is left in the heart._ I stared at it. The blood of the loved? What was that supposed to mean? I sat it back down on the table. I walked to the counter, where me and the neighbour's kid had made something explode. We'd gotten in a lot of trouble for it too. Oops.

I moved my hands over the walls, soaking up the memories, thinking of them as precious crystals, to be cherished, and they didn't hurt as much anymore. I went to the window and looked at the garden which was much bigger than I remembered. Of course, left to it's own devices without any trimming, it looked awesome. The flowers had managed to stamp out the weeds. My mother would have been proud.

I was just remembering the smell of my mother's pancakes and the sound of my father's laugh when I heard the shattering of glass and a scream from upstairs.

I ran from the kitchen and pounded up the stairs. I opened the bathroom door. No one. Spare room? No one. My room? No one. That left my parents room.

I threw open the door.

Sam had fainted on the floor with something in her hand, glass was scattered around her. I pried the object from her.

Amongst the broken glass I could just make it out.

It was my picture.

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it. The thing with Dash was kind of unplanned, but, whatever. Wow. This was my longest chapter ever. Like, in any story. I feel proud of myself. **

**~DI4MGZ~**


	10. Do You Regret It?

My picture. I didn't even know that one existed. In it I looked the exact same as I did now. It must have been taken just before my death. I set the picture down on the floor. I picked Sam up and laid her on the bed, brushing the hair away from her face.

I sat in silence for a few minutes before a groan came from Sam. I spun around to look at her. Sam rubbed her forhead with her hand.

"What?" Her eyes fell on the picture she'd been looking at. "Danny?" She turned to me, a million questions flashing in her beautiful eyes. I looked away, the more she knew the more danger she'd be in. As soon as I realized what I was feeeling I should have left her. I was selfish keeping myself near her. I was only hurting her as much as I was hurting me. Plus, I was a monster. There with things in my past that truly hurt me to think about. Things I'd done in anger. I'd hurt, destroyed, innocent people just because I didn't feel happy.

I took one look at her and began to move away again, but she sat up and gripped my arm. What could I say to her to make her let go? Nothing, I knew. I just had to go. I clenched my muscles and only my arm went intangible. Her hand slipped through it. I stood up to leave.

"Don't go. What's going on?" She sounded just a bit scared, but more curious, but below all that there was something else. I needed to know. I went to look in her mind. I only got one thought from her before she messed up my concentration.

_I just want him to trust me._

"Trust me, please." She whispered with the voice of a breaking heart.

I stood staring down at her, she looked so vulnerable, more vulnerable than I had ever seen her. I was torn between doing what was right, leaving, not putting myself through all this pain, and staying with her, getting all I could from this heavenly pain. But the tone of her voice, it made me wonder . . . could she . . . did she feel the way I felt about her? Even just a little bit.

I sat down on the bed again, but far away, not too close. Sam picked up the picture with shaking fingers, and turned it so that it was facing me on her lap. She was wearing jeans today, and a black t-shirt that had a broken purple heart on it. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail but a few piece had escaped and curled around her face. My heart melted.

"What's all this about?" She asked, tracing the frame, careful to keep away from the jagged bits of glass that refused to fall.

"Sam, I'm not human . . ."

"I figured that out when my hand went through your arm." Sam said. I almost smiled, even when I'm making the most painful confession of my (after)life, she still says something like that.

"I am Daniel." Her eyes widened and she glanced down at the picture, turning it so that she could study it. I was so afraid. What if she ran from me? It would probably be best for her, but it would still (metephorically) kill me.

"So, you're a ghost?" I coul only nod weakly, commiting her voice to memory. She sat the picture down and moved closer to me. She put out a hand and touched my face, shivering and withdrawing it quickly. "You're so cold."

"Ice powers."

"You once lived here?" I could see that she was only asking these questions so she could try to wrap her head around this information overload.

"I did. I was killed in 1812. The Fenton's are my great-great ect cousins." I whispered. I was scared to look at her.

"Is this what you really look like? Because people would have seen you around . . ." She asked, putting a hand on mine.

"No, but if I show you you're not allowed to run, screaming as you go."

"Promise."

"Close your eyes." I drew in a deep breath and let myself transform. I closed my eyes because even I couldn't stand up to the bright light that came with my transformation. "Open." I hoped I hadn't made a mistake.

Her face remained emotionless as she stared at my changed form. "You're Danny Phantom?"

"The one and only." I noticed her hands were shaking.

Wordlessly she put her hand against my face hesitantly again, thinking she knew the dangers of this, but in ghost form my powers were intensified, which meant I would be even colder. But she didn't flinch or shiver. I forced my eyes to meet hers.

"Change back please." She begged. She closed her eyes as I did what I was told.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to hate me."

"How could I ever hate you?" I wanted to trick myself into thinking that Sam liked me the same way I liked her, and that because of it everything would work out.

"Because I'm a monster. Sam, you can't possibly understand."

"Try me, I'm not that stupid."

"I'm more worried about scaring you off. What I did, I scare myself because _I_ was able to do it. I did all of that." I took a breath, trying to scare away tears.

"Trust me, please." Whispered words.

"I do trust you." I told her the whole story. About how when I first understood that I was a ghost, I freaked out and blew up a whole part of town, killing 100 people. When Walker first tried to capture me and I flew off in a rage, firing randomly, killing 50 people. Skulker ended in 23, Desiree: 67. Ember:45. I watched her face closely, wondering how she'd react to knowing I was a murder. 285 innocent lives lost to me and my temper.

"Danny . . ." Sam trailed off, unable to find words. "Do you regret it?" She asked suddenly. I was suspicious, on my guard.

"Yes."

"Then you have emotions."

"Yes?"

"I was told ghosts don't have emotions."

"Some do, some don't I guess." Where was she going with this? Oh, right, female mind.

"So ghosts can love?"

"Yes." I knew it.

"Good."

And she kissed me. Her lips were warm, filling by body with warmth, I felt almost human. Softly she pulled back, looking ashamed, scared, ready to run. Embarrassed. She started to move.

WAIT!

If she plans on kissing me, she's gotta deal with the consequences. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back to me, kissing her again, more deeply than before. She responded, throwing her arms around my neck, seated in my lap. I guess she wasn't traumatized by Dash like a normal girl would have been.

Then again, since when is Sam normal? I tell her I'm a ghost, she wants to see me as a ghost. I tell her I'm a murderer and she kisses me. I had only known her for a few days, some of them (most) taken by Dash.

Sam pulled away for air, leaning her face against my shoulder. I put my arms around her, leaning my face in her hair. It was wrong for me to have kissed her again. I couldn't bring her down like that. I took out her hair, liking it better when it was down.

**Okay, so it wasn't a cliffy, but it does just sort of stop. Hmmm. I have hit a small case of writer's block, so, any ideas, really appreciated this time around. Sorry for all the angst and stuff, but I've just been in the mood for it lately. Dunno why. I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	11. Something I Don't Like About The Desk

"Do you want to keep looking around the house?" Sam asked after a few minutes. I didn't really want to let her go but, I did have something to solve.

"Sure, but, let's look together this time." I said, and she agreed. She slid away and picked up the picture again. She set it gingerly on the bedstand again.

"And if you _ever_ hide something like that from me again, I will personally k-" She stopped herself from saying kill.

"What are you going to do with me Sammy, now that you know killing is not an option? But no more surprises." I instantly regretted my question as I saw that light come into her eyes, the one that made me fear for my existance.

"I'm positive I can come up with something." I gulped, she noticed and laughed.

I watched her move over to a desk shoved into the corner of the room. "There's something I don't like about this desk." She announced, like she had just said, "how's the weather?"

"It's a desk."

She gave me another do-you-really-think-I'm-that-big-of-an-idiot look. "I _know_ it's a desk. There's something I don't like about it."

"I know that, and my point is, it's a desk. What's there not to like about it?" I wondered, going over beside her to study it. I remembered the desk, but it hadn't been in my parents room. I struggled to remember it's original place, but I couldn't.

Sam pulled open the first drawer. It was filled with odds and ends. Just small household items, but something about them made me take a second look. They were stirring something in my mind. I tried to force it, but I couldn't latch onto the connection between these items.

"Any idea what these could mean?" Sam asked me.

"There's something about them that's bugging me, something I'm trying to remember, but I can't. All I know is that this desk wasn't originally placed here."

"Where was it before?" Sam closed the top drawer and pulled out a second one, which had a text book shoved into it. _History_. Was scrawled on it. Sam pulled it out and blew off the dust and opened the front cover. Her eyes widened. She slammed the book shut.

"I thought you said no more surprises?" She demanded, handing me the book. I opened it, feeling her eyes on me all the time.

The first thing I noticed was my name. My name? OH! The desk, it had been in my room! This was my desk! But, Sam wouldn't have reacted that way to this piece of information, so I turned to doodles on the inside of the front cover. Oh my. How was that even . . .? I looked helplessly at Sam.

"Don't look at me! I'm the one looking for an explanation!" She cried.

"I don't know! Something about all of this is nagging at me, but I can't place it." Sam shook her head and held out her hand for the book to put it back. I took one last glance at the drawings.

There was no doubt that they were mine, same style I have even now, but the freaky thing was, it was of the same girl I was staring at now. Sam. There was several of just her face, but the one in the middle, the biggest one, showed all of her body. She was wearing a dress that fit the time period, and her hair was down. Underneath the picture words were written in a curly script. _Samantha Manson._ It kind of scared me, if you know what I mean. And the scariest part was it was all drawn in perfect detail. Not a freckle missed.

I closed the cover of the book and handed it to Sam, who put it back. She opened the next drawer. It was empty. Sam frowned, but closed it again. She reached for the next drawer. Another textbook.

"No more surprises?" She asked. I shook my head. "Because we all know how well that answer worked out last time." She rolled her eyes. The title of the book was scratched out. She opened it and the pages were shredded to pieces. Except for on the inside front cover, where my name was written. "Explanation?"

"I really hate math?" I suggested weakly, making us both laugh.

"I could've told you that a few days ago," She said, kissing me on the forhead. She opened the next drawer, just more drawings.

All of her.

"Are you sure you don't remember drawing these?" Sma demanded, waving them in front of my face.

"I'm trying to but-" I trailed off as memories hit. _The _memories, the ones that had been bothering. "Sam," I whispered urgently.

"What?" I could almost picture the ticked look on her face that came with the tone of her voice.

"Turn the desk around."

"Turn it around?" Sam was skeptical, but she helped me do it anyway. There, it was, my life for ten years carved onto the back of that desk.

I stared at the scraggly signatures, carved with my penknife. One from when we were four, to fourteen.

"What's all of this?" Sam asked, tracing her name over a particularly lopsided name.

I began speaking of the memory, telling her the parts that I had just remembered, speaking them as I saw them in my minds eye.

_I was three years old, being shipped off to a daycare. I had no friends, and I wasn't looking forward to going. My mother made me go, and I wasn't one to let her down. When I arrived I was quickly paired up with a boy, he hated me. His name was Dashell Baxter. That day at recess I was running from Dashell when another boy helped me, by shoving me into the woods. Tucker Foley. We became good friends. One day while I was once again running from Dashell, and once again escaping him by jumping into the woods, I met a girl. Samantha Manson._

Danny was starting to scare Sam, she was sure he wasn't making it up, but the way he looked, staring off into the distance, eyes clouded over, it was like he wasn't in the room with her anymore.

_She'd been hiding from another girl in the 'class' Paulina Sanchez and her lackies, Starr Lopez and Valerie Grey. We talked, and also became good friends. Tucker didn't take to the girl like I did, and often asked as we were growing up why I didn't spend more time with the guys. But, here I am getting ahead of myself._

_It was my fourth birthday, and I'd already gotten my first present from my father. A penknife I wasn't allowed to tell my mother about. I wanted to show it to Tucker, but he was sick, so Samantha was coming over. I met her down the road, and walked her back to my house, showing her my penknife. We marvelled over it, but when we reached my house, I safely stowed it back in pocket. My mother loved her, calling her an angel._

_At the time, I had to wonder why. Samantha was loud, opinionated, outspoken and didn't give a damn about anyone else. She was diffent, which I guess, is why I was drawn to her in the first place. Then we went up to my room. I showed her an assortment of things. But, she showed me different things too, household items that could do a million different things when put together. That was when we started the collection in the top drawer of my desk. _

_It was just after we'd eaten the cake that we were up in my room and I was complaining that I'd never get to use my knife, so Samantha declared that every year on my birthday she'd come over and we'd carve our names on the back of the desk that held our collection, that way I'd get to use it at least once a year. _

_That's how the signatures started._

_As the years progressed, the signatures grew. Back then we got married at an early age, and if the woman wasn't asked by her fourteenth birthday then her parents planned an arranged marriage. I was two months older than Samantha. The day before I turned fourteen I told my parents of my plan to ask her to marry me. They were delighted, to say the least. Samantha come over like always, and she chased me around with a spoon with chocolate icing on it for a few minutes, for a reason I can't remember, before we went upstairs to carve our names into the desk._

_We did so, and I noticed that she looked upset. When a asked her about it she admitted that her parents were planning on marrying her off to Dashell Baxter, a boy whom I still despised. I shook my head, and proposed to her that very second. I knew I'd lost my heart to her the second I met her, I just hadn't realized what it meant at the time. I knew I surprised, and I was praying I hadn't made a mistake and ruined our friendship, but she threw her arms around me with a loud scream of yes. I couldn't believe it. I was about to kiss her when my parents barged in on us, congratulating me to no end. My cousin was also there, smiling, so I knew she was pleased with my decision, and it was very hard to make her approve of something._

_We didn't get a moment alone until her mother came to collect her. I still remember the look on her face at seeing Samantha's tiny diamond, it being all I could afford. But, laws applied, and I would have Samantha for my wife a week after her fourteenth birthday. I walked to Tucker's to tell him the good news. He congratulated me, but sounded a little strained about it. I put it off as nothing._

_That night I was murdered._

I came out of his memory trance, still not believing any word that I'd said. He looked at the Samantha Manson stitting in front of him, her mouth gaping open. He could see her perfectly in all of my memories, I could see her in the usual black dress Samantha of 1812 usually wore.

"Danny," Sam croaked out. "When's your birthday?"

"July twenty first, why?"

"May twenty first." Sam answered with her own birthday.

"Two months." I whispered, remembering Samantha's birthday. "It matches."

Sam shook her head. "This is impossible." I knew it my heart right then and there that this was it. This is when she got freaked out, left and never spoke to me again. I'd have to go through the pain that I'd been trying to put off. "But, then again . . ." Sam traced the old name again. Her name. Samantha Manson. "Everyone's in there. Dash, Paulina, Tucker, Valerie, Starr . . . me." Her expression turned thoughtful. Mine turned hopeful. Maybe she wasn't scared off by me. Suddenly she laughed.

"I saw that look." She scolded. I tried to look innocent. She wasn't fooled. "Did you think I'd just walk off because you were going to get married to my great-great something or other?" Sam demanded.

"That doesn't creep you out?"

"Just a bit, but, it's all in the past." She gave me a dry look.

"The past is coming back now Sam."

"There's still something I don't like about this desk." Sam commented again, glaring daggers at the simple, unmoving carved piece of wood.

"Should we check someone else before it's gets dark?" I asked.

"Quick search of the other rooms, and then there's somewhere else we need to go."

"Where?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not at the moment."

"Exactly." Sam commented, pushing the desk back in place. Then she strode out into the hallway. I followed her. She'd pushed open the door to the spare room, where Jasmine had often stayed, but she didn't find anything. She checked the 'bathroom' and the went to push open the last door on the floor.

I didn't process what room it was until I saw the mess, untouched by time or neatfreak parents. It was my room. Sam wasn't phased, although I was certain she knew what room it was, where I was mortified, scared of what she might find. But she bypassed everything, going to the farthest corner of my room.

I sighed, following her, dropping onto my bed like I hadn't done for years. "What are you looking at?" I asked as she crouched in the corner, studying it. Then she began to crawl, still staring the carpet.

"How strong was your father?" Sam asked out of no where.

"Fairly, where does this come in?"

"Would he have any reason to move your desk into his room? Or your mother?"

"No, where does this come in?" I asked again, hoping I didn't sound like a parrot and hoping I'd get an answer. No such luck though.

"There's still something I don't like about that desk."

***

"Where are you taking me now?" I demanded as Sam yanked me away from the house.

"Historical society." She answered, walking faster.

"Why?" Seriously, why must we go to a historical society. I could only pray they didn't stuff my in a glass case when they figured out I was the best preserved antique they could ever find.

"Don't you want to know what happened to them?" Sam asked, she sounded exhasperated, like she couldn't believe I hadn't gotten it.

"Well, when you put it that way." She turned and gave me a brief smirk as she continued to pull me down the street.

"Crap." She cursed softly.

"What?"

"It's closed."

"Really, Sam, for someone so smart you sure can be a little stupid sometimes."

"What?"

Instead of answering I snaked my arm around her waist and turned us both intangible, pulling her through the front doors.

"Warn me much?" Sam criticised. I rolled my eyes in reply, forgetting that she couldn't see me in the complete darkness. I felt her lips moving against my cold neck and shivered. "Do that again and I'll personally lock you inside of a small cramped space with someone you extremely hate."

"What?" I snorted, "Like Dash? You seen what he can't do to me."

"I was talking about a ghost or two that you hate." She informed me. "Now can you turn on some lights." I sighed, and fulfilled her request. We both blinked in the sudden light, and then Sam was on the move again, to a backdoor. She jiggled the knob, cursed, something clicked and the door swung open.

"That door was locked."

"I unlocked it." She answered with the obvious, although I did make a pretty obvious statement.

"What in there?" I asked, following her into a tiny little room with no windows. It was piled with boxes and filing cabnets.

"It's the archives from the 1800's."

"O-kay?"

"Information on people and stuff from back then?" Sam asked.

"Uhh?"

"It'll tell us what happened to your friends and tormentors?"

"Oh." Why she couldn't have just said that in the first place irked me.

"Did you seriously just say 'irked'?" Sam giggled from across the room, where she was leafing through a box.

"What?" I couldn't have just said that out loud . . . could I?

"Yes, you did."

"Oops."

"That's fine, just grab a box anywhere from 1812 to 1898."

"Why those dates?" I asked, grabbing a box and quickly discarding it. I found one with 1812 and settled down on top of another box.

"Because 1812 is where we want to start looking, and I think by 1898 everyone would have been dead, it being a hundred years after their birthdate." Sam explained.

We worked away in silence for a few minutes. Soon, Sam started giggling. They soon gave way to full out laughing.

"What!?" I demanded. She handed me a piece of paper. I paled, if a ghost can, when I read my birth announcement, accompanied by an accurate sketch of baby me. Naked baby me. I groaned.

"Oh, Danny, don't be sad." Sam started, her words choked by her laughter, "You've got a very cute-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentance!" I growled, flipping the paper back at her. She stuck her tongue out at me, but obeyed.

"How much older was your cousin than you?" Sam asked suddenly.

"Two years," I answered. "Hey, look, Dashell and Paulina got married September 18th 1812." I read from the flimsy piece of paper.

"Cute. That wasn't expected, no, not at all. Anyway, shouldn't she have been married?" Now that I thought about it, she should have been.

"Yes, but I never heard of a husband."

"Isn't that a little odd?"

"You're talking about my family, if there was ever any one normal in it, please, let me know." Sam smirked, and turned back to her box.

"Danny," Sam handed me another piece of paper.

"This doesn't have a naked me on it, does it?"

"If it did I would be laughing by now."

"Point taken," I noted and took the paper from her. It was my death announcement. The words swam through my head. I finally had to hand it back to Sam, who'd moved onto another box.

"Starr married a Kwan Schoshire." I read, flipping lazily through the box.

"Tucker married Valerie Gray." Sam's head shot up so fast that it cracked against the filing cabnet she had been leaning against.

"He couldn't have . . ."

"Mind explaining?" I asked. Silence as Sam riffled through her box after yanking Tucker's marriage announcement from my hand. "Thought not."

"Odd," She mumbled. "Danny help me stack all the boxes from 1812 over here." Shrugging I sorted through boxes and stacked all of the 1812 ones in a corner. Sam gave a low growl as she reached the last box, abviously not finding what she was looking for.

"Sam?"

"We should be getting home." Sam stated and tucked two pieces of paper into her pocket.

"Sam?"

"I'll explain on the way back to my house."

"Sure."

We moved to the front doors. "Permission to take you through the doors?" I asked her. Sam placed her arms around me, in a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her and we slipped through the front doors.

I quickly scooped her up bridal style and took to the skies, transforming into my ghost self. "Danny, what are you do-" She caught sight of my face and turned away.

"Sam, look at me." I asked.

"I . . . I can't." She admitted.

"Why not?" How could she not accept my ghost look, yet she could accept everything else?

"I don't think I'll be able to until we solve this mystery, but, after that is done, the first thing I'll do is kiss Danny Phantom."

"What did you just call me?"

"What do you mean?" She asked nervously. I wondered if she was afraid of offending me with the name, then I realized Sam wouldn't give a care. Besides, I liked it.

"What you just called me, Danny Phantom was it?" She nodded, looking down at the town. "Well, I like it. It's original, but not obvious."

"Everything's obvious, you just need to know what you're looking for." Sam pointed out. "Which is why I'm absolutely hating being confused like this. It's almost like that the notice I'm looking for has just disappeared."

"What notice?" Did this have to do with the two pieces of paper she had stuffed in her pocket.

"Either Samantha Manson or Valerie Gray's death notice."

"Are you going to elborate?" Sam sighed and rolled her eyes in a way that told me she should have suspected my in the darkness. Sam pulled out two pieces of paper.

"This is the paper you found. Tucker's engagement to Valerie. This is the paper I found. Tucker's engagement to Samantha."

Wait, hold it. "Samantha, as in, _my_ Samantha?" Sam stuck her tongue out at me with a yes. "Well, just look at the dates, which one came first."

"There are no dates on them."

"Oh, well, that's difficult." Sam just gave me a look.

"Well, tomorrow's Monday, so I have to face Dash." Sam murmered. I set Sam down on her balcony.

"Well, if he comes anywhere near you I can hit him again." I suggested, having enjoyed it throughly the first time I had done it.

"Tempting offer, but I want to hit him myself first."

"Fine." We both grinned at the word. "Just to be sure, you are going to be goth Sam, not preppy blonde Sam right?"

"Yes," Sam opened the doors and lead me into her room. "I'm not going back to blonde again. Ever." Sam disappeared inside her closet and came out a few minutes wearing her pajamas. Purple tank top and black and purple plaid pajama bottoms. I hoped I wasn't drooling.

"Danny, can you close the doors?" Sam asked, motioning to the balcony where the coold breeze was sweeping in.

"Sure." I went and closed them, and when I turned around, Sam had already gotten into bed. I went around to the other side and laid down beside her, putting my cold arms around her. She flinched at my touch for a second, then relaxed against me. I turned out the light and laid beside her in the darkness.

"Danny?" Sam asked, her voice serious.

"What?"

"I chased you with the spoon and icing because you made fun of my vegetarian diet." With those words Sam drifted off to sleep. But I, who could not sleep, in ghost form or human, was left to puzzle over her words.

Samantha Manson of 1812 had chased me with the spoon.

**Things may not be historically accurate. I'm creating my own little universe. Deal with it. Don't know Starr's last name. Ditto Kwan's. Deal with it. I don't know their actual birthday's. Deal with it. Happy New Year. Well, Happy Few Minutes After New Year! I'd like to thank bloodmoon13 right now for the awesome ideas. I'm only planning on using one of them right now, but all of them are awesome. And, because I'm feeling generous, I'd just like to mention my friend, westcoastishome, because she's always wanted her name on a fanfic. I don't know if she's read this one yet or not, but if she has I'll be sure to hear about it soon. I have hit a small case of writer's block, so, any ideas, really appreciated this time around. I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	12. Do You Believe In ?

I laid there in the darkness, my arms around Sam, still thinking. I didn't know if Sam was making fun of me, taunting me by making something up, yet, what she had said, it clicked in my mind. What she had said was right. I'd mocked Samantha, so she wouldn't think anything was different that day. I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing I couldn't sleep, but it felt good to just relax.

Around five-thiry I heard Sam's parents get up and leave the house. An hour later Sam's alarm went off. I watched in amusement as her hand moved to her table, formed a fist and smacked the snooze button on the clock. Then, she went back to sleep, if she was ever even awake.

"Sam," I whispered in her ear. She gave me a shove. "Sam."

"Where's your snooze button?" She grumbled, hitting me gently in the nose.

"Sam." No response. I knew eventually I would have to get on her nerves, and that would be an effective way of waking her up, but I was also scared of what she would do to me for waking her up. On the other hand it was my fault she was so tired . . . UGH! "Sam." I could just turn intangible. "Sam." Grumble. "Sam."

"What the hell do you want?" She finally spat out, turning to face me.

"It's time to wake up." I said sweetly. She gave me a look and promptly kneed me in the stomach. I let out an oof, as she connected. She gave me another sweet smile before disappearing into her bathroom. I shook my head. Girls.

I swiped a hand through my hair, while I was waiting for her to get finished, I went to the Ghost Zone and grabbed the things I'd need for the day. When I returned Sam was fully dressed, and moving around the kitchen. She had a bowl of cereal on the counter and was pouring herself something that looked like coffee. Her eyes were shut, so I pressumed she was doing all of this out of habit, it was kind of impressive.

"Tired," I teased as she sat on the counter, leaning against the cupboards.

She grumbled something that probably should have been beeped out. Sam, eyes still shut, finished her cereal and coffee, put the dishes in the sink, packed her bag and wandered outside. I had to wonder if she even processed I was here. Oh, well, I'd just meet her at school. I took off.

"Hey, Danny. I haven't seen you for what feels like the entire weekend!" Tucker called.

"You haven't seen me for the entire weekend." I pointed out.

"That would explain why it feels like it. What have you been up too?"

"Beating up Dash Baxter, and looking into some historical stuff."

"Wait, you beat up Dash?"

"Yup, and I'm about to do it again." I said, spotting the nearly hairless gorilla with a bandage on his nose.

"DASH!" I yelled, he spun around to face me.

"DO!" He exclaimed, "Whadda do bant?" He spit at me.

"I just wanna hit you again." I explained carefully, making sure that the whole football team could hear.

They started snickering. "Dash, you mean to say that this thing beat you up?" Said one guy.

"What happened to I was training with my dad?" Mocked another.

"Do, id's dot twue, de ibn't bo it?" Dash was denying it.

"Come on Dash, there's no pity in losing to a worthy opponent." Laughed a guy with an afro.

"Dash," Came a call. It was Sam.

"Oh! By sbeetdarg!" Dash smiled warmly, holding out his arms.

"Did you just call me your sweetheart?" Sam asked, clearly mad. Dash clearly did not get the message.

"Dat's but do bar," Dash protested.

"No, I am not sweetheart, and Danny may have broken your nose-" Which errupted into more 'it's true!' from the football team. "But, I'm going to do this." Sam kicked him in the groin with a combat boot that had a . . . oh dear lord . . . a spike on the toe. Someone have mercy.

Dash keeled over, crying hard. The afro guy broke in again, "There's no pity losing to a worthy opponent, but losing to a girl is just sad." Guy ate his words three seconds later as he went down with a black eye and a spike in the grapes.

"Man, _she's_ a worthy opponent." Said a black guy, and the whole team looked at her with a new appreciation.

"Whoa," Applauded Tucker.

The bell rang. "Almost time for class." Sam smirked and walked off. I stared after her.

"Please tell me you guys are together," Tucker pleaded after taking one look at my expression.

"I think so." I said as we started walking.

"How can you not know?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Well, it _is_ Sam." Tucker mused.

"Exactly."

"So, Danny, do you want to come over after school? You said you were looking at historical stuff and since it must be for a project, since there's no other reason to be looking at it, and we've got a lot of it. Sam can come and we can make an afternoon of it."

"'Kay, sounds fun. You got a lot of stuff from the eighteen hundreds?"

"Lots, that's when the Foley family really got dramatic." And he skipped away without another word. Yes, Tucker skipped. It was terrifying.

I sat next to Sam in History. I flipped her a note across the aisle.

_Tucker wants us to come over after school, his family has a lot of stuff from the 1800's. He said we can look at it, he also said that that was the time period where his family got dramatic._

_Cool, I'll go. Do you think that 1800 Tucker Foley did it?_

_It's possible, but he was my best friend. Why would he?_

_Do you think he wanted Samantha? -Shudders at thought-_

_It's always possible, but, if he did why would he say something sooner? Besides, he chased after Valerie all of his life._

_Here is where the puzzle pieces don't fit._

"FENTON! MANSON!" We both jumped and turned toward the board. "I saw that. Care to read your note?"

I hesitated. "No problem," Sam stood up and sent me a wink. "Danny, I wonder if Paulina knows that there's a stain on her sweater? I dunno, but if she did then she'd probably just try to pull it off as the next faishon statement and everyone will start wearing stained clothing. I know, clones aren't they." Sam smirked at Paulina. I felt like applauding. She did really nice improv.

"Oh, well, stop paying attention to Paulina's clothes and to my lessons." The teacher turned back toward the board.

I wrote back, _Well, what happens if Tucker was going to marry Samantha first?_

_Then either a) she disappeared b) she married someone else or c), which I think is most likely, she died. _I studied the options, and found myself agreeing with Sam.

_I think she would have died too. You married whoever proposed first, if you weren't after fourteen, and since I was dead . . . Wait! Turn back to me for a second. Her mother hated that she was with me, and wanted her to marry Dashell, so where did that go wrong?_

_Mother found out too late that you were dead? Tucker had already proposed? Dashell proposed to another? What happens if Valerie was proposed to first?_

_Did you look for birth announcements last night? If Tucker had a child . . ._

_IT WOULD HAVE BEEN RECORDED WITH THE WIFE'S NAME! Ugh! I'm so stupid._

_You're not. Oh, look. Almost time for lunch. _I pointed out.

_Hungry?_

_Starved._

I gave her a small smile, her knowing just as well as I did that I didn't eat.

***

"Well, here it is, the Foley family historical junk." Tucker announced as we stepped into his attic.

"This is really interesting stuff Tucker." Sam commented.

"Only you would say that Sam." I could practically hear Tucker roll his eyes.

Sam went to the back of the attic, beginning to paw through something while I went and looked at a box full of random stuff.

"Are you guys trying out for the school play?" Tucker asked suddenly.

"Probably not, and usually you would scorn the play too." Sam said.

"Well, I think that we should all go in it. It sounds really interesting and this is the kind of dramatic, uptight star-crossed lover thing you like Sam." Tucker stuck his tongue out at her. "But, what about you Danny, do you act?"

_Everyday of my life_. I thought. "Not really, why the interest thought? What play are we doing?"

"Oh, it's very famous around here, but this is the first time it'll be coming to stage. Most of it is historically accurate, but some they had to write their own parts for."

"Just tell us what the play is Tucker." Sam snapped. I noticed she shoved some papers into her bookbag. Tucker didn't seem to see.

"The life story of . . ." He paused for dramatic effect. I got the same feeling I got the day we watched 'The Ghost Of Amity' at Sam's. "DANIEL!" Sam looked like she was about to faint and crack up at the same time.

"Danny, you would make a perfect Daniel." She finally said.

"And you would make a perfect Samantha." I countered.

"You do know that Daniel and Samantha have to kiss right?"

WHAT? I thought in my mind. I'd kissed Sam, but I hadn't kissed Samantha.

"Tucker, are you trying out?"

"Yup. I'm trying out for the part of Tucker." He sounded so proud of himself.

"Oh, how original." Sam commented. Tucker stuck out his tongue again. "How childish."

I looked down at my box. "Hey, Tuck, do you know the story behind the knife?" I asked. I was wondering, how did Tuck end up with my penknife? The one I used on the desk? Sam's head shot up, and she stared at it. Her eyes trained on the knife.

"All I know is that it belonged to my namesake's best friend. After the friend died, old Tucker got the knife." Maybe it did go like that. But, I wouldn't know.

"Interesting." Tucker glanced at the clock.

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to kick you guys out."

"Why?" We choursed.

"Cousin's-" Tucker started.

"Birthday-" Sam added.

"Party." I finished.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Just a wild guess." I grinned at Sam.

"So, are you guys going to try out?" Tucker asked before he closed the door.

"Sure."

"Nothing better to do." We answered.

"Great. See you on set."

The door closed and Sam was already walking toward the historical society. "It's Monday, they don't open on Monday." She told me.

"More breaking and entering?" I joked.

"Well, we didn't actual break anything," Sam mused.

"No, we just stole. So, what did you steal from Tucker?"

"You'll find out after I take one more look in the historical society archives. I'll tell you once we get back to my house. And we're _walking_ this time." She told me with a glare.

"Fine, fine." We both grinned at the word.

A few minutes later as Sam sorted through boxes, I couldn't help thinking about how much she reminded me of Samantha. I mean, for all I know she could have been Samantha brought back to life. There was no difference between them. Same personality, same everything. Now that I thought about it, everyone from my old life seemed to be copied into this time, barely a tweak except they were modern.

"Let's go." Sam said, standing.

I phased us out of the building. "There still something I don't like about that desk." She commented.

"It's _a _desk!" I told her.

"I know that, but there's something about it, and how it was moved. I'm sure it was moved just after you desk, which makes me wonder why your parents didn't move it back, and now with the 'Daniel' play. Something about this doesn't feel right."

"You're being paranoid."

"Better to be paranoid than caught unaware." She advised.

"You're telling this to the murdered kid why?"

She gave me a bit of a smile before leading me into her living room. She threw down a bunch of papers. "Did you steal the knife from Tucker?"

"Yeah, why were you looking at it like you were?" I asked, pulling the knife out of my bag. Sam gave no answer, just held out her hand. I very gently placed the handle in her palm.

She studied it, although I didn't know what she was looking for. "I'll look at it more closely later, but I don't think this is your knife." Sam said finally.

"What do you mean, it's not my knife?" I demanded.

"Becuase there's no nick on the right side of the blade, you cut it on a rock when you were ten remember?" The words that came out of her mouth, Sam couldn't possibly have known them, they were things that Samantha would have known and no one else. Sam's eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her lips.

"How did you know that?" I asked cautiously, moving toward her.

"I don't know!" She cried, sounding freaked. "It just came to mind when I was looking at it."

"Sam?" I asked after a moments silence.

"What?"

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

**If anyone has trouble understanding what Dash is saying pm me and I'll send you a list of what he says. Thanks to greenmint for the ideas and guesses. You kind of were on the right track, then you veered off in a different direction. Anyway, no updates on weekends. Please check out new fic, sleepless. It's what I was working on yesterday, that's why this chapter wasn't done. Remember, things may not be historically accurate. I don't give a care.I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own it.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	13. The Way

"Reincarnation?" Sam repeated, looking thoughtful for a moment. "It's plausible, I suppose. No one really knows what happens after death. Even those in a paranormal state of living." Sam gave me a look that told me not to argue. "But, isn't death suppose to be the final journey?" After she said no more I realized she was waiting for an answer.

"Yes, but, what if the person's mission on earth was not done? Their life not fulfilled?" I asked. Even as I spoke the words, I knew that I was right. Sam _was_ Samantha, and herself, she was the same person in a different life that couldn't remember her previous life. It makes sense in my mind.

"I think I'm going to have to agree with you." That would be a first. "And, I think that you're right. I think I am Samantha."

"Why agree so quickly?" I was instantly suspicous.

"I've always had dreams, and feelings of deja vu, and with that feeling always came a vision of me doing something else in a different time. And I knew it was me. Like Paulina's torture. And, then, when I saw you . . ."

I pulled her into my lap. "This is really confusing." I told her.

"You're telling me?" She giggled playfully. "It all makes sense in my mind, but not aloud."

"Same."

"You've got a mind?"

"STOP TEASING!" I pretended to cry.

"You're such a faker," She sighed.

"Maybe, but if you had just walked in the room you would have thought that I was actually crying."

"Are you going to try out for the play?"

"Yes, and I'm going to get the lead too!"

"The male lead or the female?"

"Male, and you'd better get the female." I growled.

"Really? Because I was thinking that I wanted to play Paulina." I didn't detect a bit of sarcasm in her voice. Could she be serious?

"You can't be serious."

"Did I stutter?" She asked, repeating my words from the first day. "I said I wanted to play Samantha. You were the one who suggested Paulina." Now she had to be playing me.

"No, I said you should play the female lead, which is Samantha."

"No," She argued. "You said that you were playing the male lead and I said I was going to try out for the female lead and then you said that I should play Paulina."

"Why would I say that? Because if I did then Paulina might play Samantha and then I'd have to kiss her!"

"But you never kissed Samantha when you were alive. You've only kissed her as Sam. So, if you got your way you wouldn't have to kiss her and I could play Paulina like you said even though I want to play Samantha."

I thought about that for a second. "What?" She gave me a smile. Ugh. Female mind.

"Want to see what I stole from Tucker?" I shrugged. She wouldn't explain to me and I knew I was right . . . no, she was right . . . no, I had to be . . . or she could be . . . I give up. She wins.

She laid out several pieces of paper. "Samantha died the day after her engagement to Tucker, but it doesn't say why."

"Valerie and Tucker got married, but Valerie was infertile." I gave her a look. "She couldn't have a baby." I let out my breath. "That's all I could find."

"If Valerie was infertile then how is Tucker . . .?"

"Old Tucker had an affair."

"With?" She gave me a sad sort of smile.

"Your cousin." My eyes widened. Jasmine, uptight perfect little Jasmine?! Ha!

"That means we're related?"

"Yes, cousins or something." Sam commented. "Then Jasmine married a man by the name of Vladmir Masters, an old bachelor, and had another baby. Her first baby, was given to Tucker to be raised by him and Valerie."

I shuddered. When I was fourteen and Jasmine was sixteen Vladmir Masters was a forty three year old virgin. Perverted old man.

***

"I have the parts for the play!" Yelled an excited woman called Lisa. We'd just finished tryouts yesterday.

"Okay, Kwan Schoshire will be played by . . . Kwan Schoshire!" The woman frowned and continued. "Starr Lopez will be played by . . . Starr Lopez!"

"Do I sense a pattern?" Sam whispered in my ear.

"I hope so."

"Dashell Baxter by Dash Baxter! Paulina Sanchez by Paulina Sanchez! Jasmine (we still don't know her last name) is played by Jazz Fenton!"

"I didn't know Jazz was doing the play." Tucker commented from behind us. I shrugged.

"Valerie Gray played by . . . Valerie Gray! Tucker Foley by Tucker Foley. Madeline and Jack (no last names) by Maddie and Jack Fenton." I nearly fell through my chair.

"What?" Great. Ghost hunters. This should be fun.

"And finally! The leads!" Lisa announced. "Daniel is played by Danny Fenton and Samantha Manson by Sam Manson!" Lisa let out a huge smile. "Practices start tomorrow at four. They run all week until six."

"What are they going to have us do for two hours?" I heard Paulina grumble.

"Practice lines." Sam called, "Of course, all of your lines match your personality a stuck *BEEP*."

"Did you just call me what I think you called me?" Paulina threatened moving closer.

"Everybody! Listen up the slut can think!"

"Me? A slut? Who pretended to be someone their not to get a date with Dash?" I thought Paulina had her, but then again, I'd never witnessed a cat fight.

"It's called a bet Paulina. I was forced to or else I'd have to follow you around, so I supposed a few minutes with Dash was worth it."

Paulina glowered. "Yeah, but I heard you banged him."

"No, he tried to rape me but Danny broke his nose!"

"I thought you were supposed to be tough! Why did you have to have someone stick up for you?"

"I got my revenge, just like I will on you Paulina." Sam spun on her heel and grandly dissappeared out the door.

I looked after her and when Paulina narrowed her eyes at us we practically ran after Sam. Tucker ran into the door mand it was just pure luck that I didn't run through it.

"What was all of that about?" I panted.

"Oh, I've hated Paulina forever." Sam said. "I just needed to get my anger out again."

"No joke, once back in third grade Paulina-" Sam covered Tucker's mouth.

"That's a story we both don't need to hear!" She threatened.

"But it was funny!" Tuck protested.

I leaned over and whispered in Sam's ear, "You know I could just get the truth right out of his mind?"

"You like cobwebs?" She asked.

"COBWEBS? COBWEBS MEAN SPIDERS! WHERE ARE THE MUTANT SPIDERS?" Tucker screamed, ran down the hall and shoved himself in a locker.

"Is that normal?" I asked, looking pointedly at the locker where we could clearly hear Tucker whimpering.

"For Tucker," She shrugged as we passed it. We stopped at the office and picked up a couple of scripts.

"Now," She turned to me a smirk on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, "Just to warn you when we are reading the script or anything, you are not allowed to comment on how it really went, and you are not allowed to yell "That's wrong!" In the middle of a rehearsal."

"I wasn't planning too, but now that you mention it-"

"You'd better not!"

"Or what? I will endure the wrath of the goth?" I mocked, but a fire lit up in her eyes and I ran.

***

"Sammykins!" Came a yell. Sam's face fell.

"Who?"

"My mother." I hadn't met either of Sam's parents yet, and I was about to sink through the floor when Mrs. Manson appeared in the doorway. She was a tall woman, with blonde hair.

"Ah, Samantha, I was just looking-" She caught sight of me and a disgusted look transformed her features. "_WHAT IS THAT?_"

"That, Mom," Sam sneered the word, "is my boyfriend." And despite the situation, I felt completely euphoric at the word. Sam shot me a look, which made me think that she could understand whatI was feeling.

"Boyfriend? But, Sammy, what about that nice boy, Dash Baxter, that you met at the last party." An evil look crossed Sam's features.

"Oh, don't worry about Dash. I'm sure he's happy." Her mother gave a dirty look and attempted to sweep grandly from the room but she tripped over the hem of her dress. She gave us another look. "I'm going out." We heard the door slam.

"What did you do to Dash?" I demanded.

"Well . . . You know the Box Ghost?"

***

"Okay! Welcome back everybody and I hoped you had the chance to read over your scripts!" Lisa clapped her hands. There was a collective noise from the cast. "Well, we're going to pair up and read scenes from the script. First up, Daniel and Samantha in scene twelve."

I followed Sam up on stage. She didn't have her book, because she'd already memorized _all_ of her lines. I don't understand how, but I needed my book so I didn't say what I actually said.

"Samantha!" I pretended to sound concerened, but it was pretty hard when she was laughing. "What happened to you yesterday?"

"My mother," more smirking between the two of us, "made me go to another party, where she announced that I would be," a lot more smirking, "getting married soon."

"To who?" Even to me, this sounded completely fake.

"STOP!" Lisa yelled. "You two aren't warming up to the scene, so Danny, put down the book. Sam, forget your lines momentarily. I want you to improv on the scene. Do it how you would if you had no script." I lapsed back into that day, and I could tell that Sam had the memories of that day running through her mind too. "And remember, we want movement too!" Lisa reminded us.

Sam sighed and turned her back to me, pretending to be looking at something on the other side of the stage.

"Samantha," I whispered loud enough to be heard, "You seem upset. What's wrong?" Sam still didn't answer but moved a few steps away. I reached out and caught her hand. "I'm your best friend. You can trust me." I spun her around and looked deep into her eyes.

"I'm sorry Daniel. I tried not to ruin your birthday, it's nothing. Really." Sam tried to pull away, but I gripped her hand tighter, seeing the real setting reflected in her eyes.

"It won't be ruined. You're here, that's all that counts. Please, you know I'll find out sooner or later."

Sam covered her eyes with her hands, so I held her upper arms. "My mother, she told me who I would be marrying." She attempted to turn away again, always trying to get out of the situation.

"You're not turning fourteen for another two months. How can she set you up now?"

"She said that no one will ask me. And she's right. I'll be stuck with Dashell Baxter until the day I die."

"You're beautiful, Samantha. Someone will ask you before you have to marry." I assured her.

"You can't possibly know that." Sam rejected the idea.

"I can," I said, and knelt on one knee, taking her hand.

"STOP!" Lisa yelled. I released Sam's hand and stood back up. "You two _what_ was that?" Sam and I looked at each other and shrugged in unison.

"How can you not know?" The stage manager, Terry, demanded. She was staring at us, eyes wide, as was everyone else in the auditorium.

"THAT WAS GOLD!" Lisa yelled. "PRICLESS! PERFECTION! So real! I was lost in the moment!" She paused. "Do you think you'll be able to recreate it?"

"Absolutely."

"No problem." We assured her.

"Okay," Lisa said. "Maddie, Jack, Jazz, you three are up. You're playing Daniel's family members, and you're going to be talking about Daniel's decision to ask Samantha to marry him." Sam and I dashed off stage to avoid being seen by modern day Fenton's.

"I think it's wonderful that Daniel's found somebody," Maddie began. "She's so nice too, she completes him."

"I told you the first day I met that girl!" Jack interjected.

"Actually, I think that Aunt Madeline pointed it out to you," Jazz said with a look.

"Does it matter?" Maddie demanded, leaning against her husband. "We're going to have a new member of the family! And, Jack, grandkids!" I just about choked. I looked at Sam who was a delicate shade of red.

"Is that the way that their conversation actually went?" She whispered fearfully.

"I hope not." I said, shaking my head.

"I just hope that Daniel's not making a mistake." Jazz said, drawing my attention back to the stage.

"How would he be making a mistake?" Maddie asked, looking at Jazz with something that looked like real fire in her eyes, as though . . . as though she was actually my mom having this conversation. It was something I'd never really considered before. What if they were all reincarnated like Sam? The easy way I got on with Tucker, the way I instantly dispised Dash and Paulina. The way Tucker had a crush on Jazz but stared at Valerie . . .

"Samantha is a good girl and everything, but she's so defiant, she'd never be a quiet housewife. Are you sure that will be good for Daniel?"

"Daniel gets so cocky sometimes, she's the only thing that brings him down to earth."

"I hope you're right." Jazz said, and for some reason, she was staring right at me.

**Thanks to NarutoxxAddicted for all the great ideas/guesses. Right now, you're the closest to the mystery. But, not even the greatest detective could crack this case, and yes, people, that **_**is**_** a challenge. Oh, and I finally have an answer for the question about the historical society. No one has actually tried to crack the case before, so, it never came up. Does that work?**

**Anyway, I it just recently occured to me that I made a mistake on Samantha and Daniel's birthdates. I said that Samantha was two months younger, but I think I made her two months older, please ignore this, since I cannot find it to correct it. Thanks.**

**This story will probably be coming to a closing soon, but, that just leaves room for more things to come through. I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	14. They Never Found The Body

"It probably doesn't mean anything." Sam was reassuring me, as I told her my fears that Jazz suspected something. "But, I think that you were right about the other thing. I mean, everyone being reincarnated. It's too much of a coincidence to be a mistake."

"Yes, but that makes me scared of one thing." I admitted. Sam shifted on the couch, so that her head was on my shoulder and my arm was around her shoulders.

"What would that be?" Her purple eyes glanced at me."

"That history is going to repeat itself."

"Repeat itself . . ." Her eyes found mine, and I stared into their endless depths as her face mirrored her thoughts. "You'd don't think that I'll be killed again? That the same things will happen?"

"Why not? Face facts Sam, this is my life, recreated, modernized."

"With twists." She added.

"So? Same type of plot, same ending." I argued.

"Your life is not written down in a book Danny! It's not a script for you to follow!" She shouted back. That's probably where I should have stopped.

"WHAT LIFE! I'M _DEAD! _Dead, Sam. Do you understand what the means? You're going to live and long and happy life! I'll be the same forever! You'll get married, have kids. I will still be _dead_. I should have never come."

Sam took one look at me, and I guess she didn't like what she saw. Because she ran. I've never, in all my years, seen someone move that fast. It's not like I hadn't expected it since the beginning, but it still hurt. I turned away from her, and caught my reflection in the mirror.

My eyes were like frozen pools of ice, my face was violent, rough and I recognized the look. Dash had been wearing it on their 'date.' I felt like smashing the mirror, just to get rid of the monster I was staring at. And it was undeniable. I was a monster. Even this brief taste of happiness was something I didn't deserve. More over, what did she do to deserve this punishment?

***

"Are you okay, Danny?" Tucker asked me as we sat at play practice the next afternoon.

"I'll be fine Tuck." I whispered as I tried to keep my eyes away from Sam.

"I'm not an idiot Danny." Tucker turned around in his seat in front of me. "What happened between you two?"

"Just an arguement." I answered. I was really tempted to just leave the play. I could, especially since I was acting in it with Sam, but, I couldn't let all of those people down, plus, it was a way to be close to Sam again.

"I've known Sam forever, and she's never looked like this. Not even when her parents a-" Tucker stopped short, realizing he'd betrayed a friend by saying to much.

"What did her parents do?" I demanded. If he said what I was thinking. I don't know if I could handle it.

"I can't say." Tucker gazed up at me definatly.

"Tell me!" I demanded again, this time I must have looked menacing enough to convince him.

"Her father sexually abused her and her mother physically and verbally." He squeaked out.

"Play practice is over!" Lisa called. I love how sometimes things just work out. I stormed from the auditorium. The locks on all the lockers were pulled toward me by a magnetic force.

I stormed from the school. I had no idea where I was going. I stopped when I stepped in water. I was at the brook. The memory of Sam haunted this place. I shivered, driving back chills.

I heard footsteps in the woods. It was strange, I couldn't tell who it was. Whoever it was completely blocked me. I couldn't get an aura, a scent, a thought. It was unnerving. I followed the person's footsteps. Whoever it was was running, fast.

I heard splashes as my mystery person crossed the brook. I flew after whoever. I was trying to wait to see where the went before I caught up with them. Finally my mystery person collapsed to the ground, and I heard sobs. It was a female voice, angellicaly so, and at that moment I knew who it was.

Sam.

I turned intangible and stepped out into the place she had stopped at. Her knees were curled up and she was resting her forhead on them, but I could see the flow of tears.

"You can come closer," She choked out. "I'm not going to bite."

I turned tangible and took a few hesitant steps toward the shaking girl. "How did you . . .?"

"When you've spent so much time with someone they grow on you. You know where they are, no matter where you are." She answered. She could do that? Know where I was? I hadn't even known who was running through the woods until she made a sounds.

"Tucker said he told you about my parents." With that one sentence she brought back all of the pain I'd felt, the feeling of betrayal. I'd trusted her with everything I had, and she lead me to believe that she just led a rebellious rich kid life.

"Why are you still living with them?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Sam looked at me, a sad smile on her face. "My parents are so powerful, and being under the protection of Vlad Masters, they're untouchable. I'm fine now, though. They haven't touched me since I learned to fight back." She looked so small, so vulnerable, just lying there. I remembered my words from yesterday. My anger, frustration. My outburst. My expression. I didn't know if she would let me close after that. I ignored it, and took a chance. I sat beside her.

"I still don't like it." I admitted.

"Neither do I, but we both have to live- I mean cope with it." I noticed almost sadly how she refrained from saying 'lived.' My heart felt tortured as I realized that she was now scared. Of me. Scared to set me off again. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as possible.

"I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I was just feeling so angry and hurt. I was scared, I guess."

"Scared?" Sam looked at me again, leaning into my arm.

"Scared." I confirmed. "I was so scared that history was going to repeat itself, and I would lose you again. This time for good."

"How do you know that?" She asked suddenly. "If it happened once, it could happen again."

"You lost me." I said with a blank stare.

"If I die, who's to say that in a couple of years another Samantha Manson will come along."

"You have no siblings." I pointed out. She gave a snort.

"I have eight sisters and fourteen brothers. All older." I stared at her.

"How _old_ are your parents?" I asked.

"Between all the plastic surgery I can't tell." Sam answered with a shrug. And just like that we were back to playful banter, and a kiss in between. We both acted like yesterday hadn't happened. Yet we were both painfully aware that it.

I gave a sigh, and look up at the tree. I noticed something. "Hey, remember this?" I asked. She stood, confused.

"It's a tree."

"Just like the desk is a desk." I replied, but I took her hand and directed it to a shape carved into the bark.

"Bonfire of 1810." She remembered. I knew because that light sprang into her eyes. "Didn't we set Jasmine on fire?"

"Totally on accident. My stick was burning."

"And you just had to drop it on her dress." Sam finished. "I want to go back one more time." Sam said, and gazed off in the direction of the house.

"Why?" I was genuinly curious. I knew we'd have to go back sooner or later.

"There's something important that we, or I, or you, overlooked. Something crucial." Sam started off, following a thin trail. I had no choice but to go after her.

She pushed open the creaky old door. The house seemed to be holding it's breath. I left the door open to try and clear out some of the muskiness.

Sam looked around and moved toward the kitchen. She hadn't gone in there since I had assured her that I had checked it. Maybe she just wanted to be sure. I entered the little room to find Sam holding the piece of paper I had glanced at and sat back down. Sam looked at it. Read it again. And again. Her eyes seemed to swirl with the tornado of thoughts in her head. Finally her expression took on a bit of revulsion and understanding. Then she whispered five words to me and ran out of the room.

_"They never found the body."_

**Let's just say you guys are lucky that my muses are being pushy about updates. I'm really trying to finish this fic soon. Just so I can mentally picture faces about the ending from reviews. I do believe none of you will expect the ending. Yes, I am challenging all of you who think that they can crack the case! It's not incredibly obvious, but I think I dropped a few clues that might lead you close to the train of thought I am currently following. Ah, good luck. **

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own story will probably be coming to a closing soon, but, that just leaves room for more things to come through. I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	15. NO SHOES

**I usually don't start fics with an author's note but I just have to. For all the people that reviewed, when did I **_**EVER**_** say that Danny's body was never found? Go, now, read.**

I stared after her for a moment then darted off. I found Sam staring at the roses. "Sam?" I asked.

"Shush." She reprimanded me. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the heart shaped rose bed. We stood in the middle and Sam gasped a gasp of horror. I looked down and there, lying broken across from us was a skeleton.

I took a closer look. The jaw was hung openin what must have been fear. A lilac nightgown clothed the figure, a bloody stain covered the front of her gown. She must have been stabbed. A head of black hair covered the skull. And there, glinting on the right hand was my ring. _The _ring. The ring I had given Samantha when I had asked her to marry me. I displayed my own horror.

"What does this mean?" I asked Sam.

"This means, we've got another piece of the puzzle and nowhere to put it."

***

"Danny Fenton?" I turned to the voice behind me as Sam did. Jazz Fenton.

"That would be 're Jazz right? That's what I heard that ghost call you."

"Err, right." Jazz and I shook hands. "Look, I need to talk to you, and you're not allowed to call me crazy."

"Because that would be my job." Sam commented from behind me.

"Sam Manson?" Jazz asked, leaning.

"The one and only." Sam said proudly.

"I thought your parents shipped you off to boarding school."

"They did." Sam answered mysteriously. "I was expelled before I set foot in the building."

"I thought I broke you of that kind of behaviour," Jazz looked disapprovingly at the girl and I just had to wonder how they knew each other.

"You can't break me." Sam replied haughtily.

"I know what you mean. I don't even want to know how you managed to do that." Jazz said, holding up a hand when Sam opened her mouth. "I'm here to talk to," She turned back to me. "You."

"Go, talk. I'll listen."

"I've been having these weird feelings or something when I look at you. I can see you from another time, like deja vu. I see you setting my dress on fire, we were both dressed like people from the eighteen hundreds, but I know very well it was Sam who set me on fire two years ago." I gave Sam a look and she shrugged and mouthed, _Old habits?_ "And, why do we have the same last name?" Jazz finished in one breath.

"I told you I was worried." I told Sam.

"Hey, it was a fifty fifty chance. How was I supposed to know?" Sam answered.

"Just explain." Jazz answered cooly.

"Who were you Jazz?" Sam asked.

"I," Jazz bowed her head in thought. It came up again quickly. "I was Jasmine Fenton, cousin of Daniel. I had an affair with Tucker Foley and married Vlad Masters." Came an automatic answer. Sam smiled and pushed the older girl away.

"I am so going to be in trouble, you know that?" I muttered staring after Jazz.

"You won't," Sam reassured me.

"How do you know that?"

"You're lucky you have a girlfriend like me. Jazz won't remember a thing." Sam flopped down beside me.

"Why not?"

"People never do when hypnotized."

"How did you manage to hypnotise her?" I squawked.

"I did it this morning before school. I had to know how much she remembered, subconsciously, I mean. None of this has made its way to her practical mind yet." Sam said with a yawn for emphasise.

"Ya huh." I smirked remembering thier conversation. "So why did you set Jazz on fire?" She grinned, "And how did you manage to get expelled? And how do you know her?!" Sam gave me a crazy look and took off across the soccer field. "Only if you catch me!" She sang.

***

I didn't end up catching her, so I suppose I wouldn't know for a long while. I was now slumped over in a chair in the auditorium, watching Sam run away from Paulina. She darted behind a 'bush' and Paulina walked off stage.

"Good girls. Very good. Now, let's go to the proposal scene between Sam and Tucker." Lisa called. I flipped to another page in my script, following along. There was a proposal in here after my death.

"Hello Samanatha." Tucker loped toward her.

Sam pretended to brush away tears. I had to admit, she was an awesome actor. "Hello, Tucker."

"I was so devastated when I heard about Daniel," Tucker put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And right after he asked you to marry him too," Tucker said in a voice dripping with sympathy.

Sam pretended to start crying, and I was surprised to see real tears. I wondered where she was, in what world? "Oh, Tucker, I don't know what I'd do without him." She threw her arms around Tucker and sobbed.

"Samantha, Daniel made me promise to take care of you so," Tucker got on one knee, "will you marry me?"

"Yes." Sam's voice was flat, like she just said yes to fulfill a duty.

"Excellent! Remember, before you go you have to get measured for your costumes." Lisa called. "Mr and Mrs Manson for 'the talk' scene." Mrs. and Mr Manson were played by Ms Jacobs and Mr Simmons. They climbed up on stage and began an argument on what they could do to get Samantha out of her engagement.

I put down my script as Alexis (an assitant) ran over to me. "You're playing Daniel right?" I nodded. "Good. Go backstage and get measured for your costume. Find Jayne and Chass." She commanded as she darted off again. They took Alexis for granted.

I followed her instructions and went back stage to where there was chaos. Utter chaos. We were barely a week into rehersals and everything was going KABOOM! Choir members were running around with CD's complaining that they couldn't practice since we took over their area. Band members were chasing choir members because the choir members had tried to kick them out of the music room. Pieces of fabric, papers, scripts, writing utensils, random articals of clothing, bookbags, books, etc and the random crying kid were scattered over the place. I went to a blonde woman and brown haired man who were arguing with Sam.

"I will _NOT_ wear heels!" She yelled over the noise. "Besides, Lisa and Terry don't want us to where shoes!"

"We need you elevated! You're too short compared to Danny!" Complained the man, who I pressumed to be Chass.

"What did you just say?" Sam crossed her arms and leaned back, daring him to say it again. Being a stupid naive male, he did.

"You're to _short_." Sam tackled him to the ground and stood over him.

"Who's towering over who now?" She growled. "Just measure me. No shoes." She said to Jayne. She grabbed a measuring tape.

Chass stood up, rubbing his head. "Danny?" He asked. I nodded. He grabbed a measuring tape. I was stuck there for a good ten minutes. I saw Sam go hurrying away four minutes in.

Finally, Chass and Jayne waved me away. I ducked out into the auditorium to find everyone gone. I grabbed my bag and script and headed out the door. I was about to push it open when somone jumped on my back. I reached my hands back.

"Chill, just me." Sam whispered in my ear. As she clung to me like some sort of animal I continued out of the building.

"No shoes?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Nope. And if that stupid male wants to insult me again, I swear I will kick him so hard," Sam growled and trialed off to meaningless muttering.

"Calm down." I smirked, "And I can't wait to see you in a _wedding_ dress." Sam gave me a sharp poke in the back of my neck. To make the scene more dramatic, Sam would be wearing a wedding dress when she was told of my death. She was getting fitted, or something like that.

"I don't want to wear a wedding dress!" Sam complained. "I don't plan on ever getting married!"

"No?" I asked, this was news to me.

"No, I don't. Marriages tie you down. As soon as I turn eighteen and I'm free I don't plan on being tied ever again. Nothing will hold me back." She announced. I felt my heart drop a bit at the idea of her being eighteen, leaving Amity. Never to return. It sounded like some cheesy film. Except it wasn't it was my cheesy, pointless, existance.

"No argument?" Sam asked, prodding me out of my reverie.

"I just think that if it's what you want then you should go for it."

Sam clung closer to me and buried her face in my shoulder. "As long as you agree."

**I don't know if hair decomposes or not, I'm pretty sure it does, but just go with me people. Sorry if some of the words are run together, my space bar isn't cooperating today. Don't think that those are real teachers, they're not supposed to be. Just made 'em up.**

**This chapter is dedicated to NartuoxxAddict for the wonderful long review (again!). You are sort of tottering on the right track. Falling off, getting back on. I think you know, you just haven't really considered it yet. Here are the answers to your questions:**

_**When Danny turns back to ghost form, is it like something he wore from the 1800s or the normal DP clothes? **_

**Normal clothes. The 1800 clothes stayed on his 'human form,' but he's changed them to look more modern.**

_**Did Sam's parents also do that kind of stuff to her in the 1800's or is that just modern day times? **_

**Both. They're just mean because she isn't their idea of perfect.**

_**Is there by any chance, any of the other houses around by Danny's one? You know, like old neighbours...Tucker's house...Samantha's house?**_

**Old houses yes. Falling down, not really there anymore though. Samantha lived a long walk away, and Tucker in the more main part of 'town.' So, they're not close.**

**If anyone has anymore questions please, feel free to ask, I try not to add any confusion to my stories, but what might make sense to you may not make sense to me.I do believe none of you will expect the ending. Yes, I am challenging all of you who think that they can crack the case! It's not incredibly obvious, but I think I dropped a few clues that might lead you close to the train of thought I am currently following. Ah, good luck. **

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own story will probably be coming to a closing soon, but, that just leaves room for more things to come through. I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	16. The Murder Weapon

**Warning, bit of abusive content in this chapter.**

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?" I heard Sam yell. I knew I had come to see her at a bad time, but I couldn't help being curious.

"Sammy-"

"My name is _Sam_." Sam sounded deadly and threatening, but the stupid woman (her mother) just kept going. I floated into the lviing room and stayed invisable in the corner. Sam glanced at me, and I knew that she knew I was here.

"I named you Samantha, so I'll call you whatever I want."

"No. You won't. I don't care what you named me. My name is Sam, and you need to leave me and my life to myself."

"You're my daughter. I care about you!" Pamela argued.

"You care about me like sand cares about ice-cream. It doesn't."

"Look, just stop what you'er doing and I'll back off."

"What the _hell_ am I doing?" Sam demanded. Her hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, but some whisps had escaped and were floating around her face.

"Do _not_ speak to me like that!" Pamela roared and slapped Sam across the face.

"Do _not_ touch me." Sam answered, trembling, her face set and determined.

"You're my daughter. You belong to me. I'll do what I please."

"NO! You won't!" Sam answered. Pamela hit her again.

"I'm your mother." She said, as though that explained everything. "I always wanted someone different for a daughter. You're to ugly. You're not _good_ enough. You're a horrible person, and you'll never make it anywhere. You'll go and come back, crying, begging us to take you back in." Pamela walked toward her daughter on the other side of the room, but to her credit, Sam held her ground.

"That's not true. I'll die before I accept anymore charity from you than I have to." Sam replied, shaking her head.

Pamela gripped Sam's upper arm, digging manicured nails into the soft flesh. Sam let out a cry of pain. Blood hit the hardwood. Pamela wrapped the other hand around Sam's other arm.

"Let go of me!" Sam screamed, kicking out. She connected with Pamela's knee, but Pamela recovered quickly. There was now a small puddle of blood on the hardwood. The evil witch pulled rope out from behind the couch and bound Sam's legs and hands, then gave her a gag. She didn't tie them very well, but it worked enough so that Pamela could drag Sam to a closet.

"Remember, this closet is sound proof." The evil woman glared and locked the door from the outside.

I turned intangible and phased through the wall. Sam had wriggled from her bonds and had rid herself of the gag. She was curled up in a corner, inspecting her wounds. She looked up at me. I turned visable and Fenton again. I dropped down beside her.

"Are you alright?" I asked, taking her tiny hands in mine.

"I've been through worse." She said and I wrapped my arms around her.

I scanned the closet. It was completely dark to human eyes, but I was no longer human. There were scratch marks on the walls, made over the years. Zooming in on them, they were strewn over a time space of 12 years, which meant that Sam was two the first time she was locked in here. Blood splatters covered the floor, and bits of plaster had been peeled away to reveal the metal that kept the room sound proof. I clutched her closer.

"Get me out of here!" She pleaded. I transformed and turned her intangible with me. "Where to?"

"Does it look like I care?" I slid out of the closet, into the hallway and out the front door. Just because I felt like it. Plus, Sam could always say that she just walked right out the front door when questioned by her mother.

"Won't you get hurt again if your mother finds you gone?"

"Not if you put me back before she finds me." Sam gazed up at me.

"How do I know when that will be?" I took her to the shelter where I had taken her after Dash.

"An hour before school starts." Sam crawled onto the same bed as she had before. I looked at her more closely. From the top of her boots to thee bottom of her skirt was a thin line of bruises. I guessed that they continued all the way up her body.

"Sam, you have to put an end to this." I said. She leaned back against the wall.

"I can't do a thing about it. I told you, my parents are protected by Vlad Masters. They are untouchable, even by the law. Vlad's paying them off."

I laid my head in her lap and she ran her fingers through my hair. "You can't keep getting hurt like this. There must be somewhere else you can go."

"No living relatives." Sam answered shortly.

"Just go to the police, they have to listen to you. Take your case to court. You can't lose."

"Maybe later, but, _Daniel_, your case goes to court in seven days." My eyes, which had been drifting shut, launched open. I had forgotten about my deadline.

"What are we going to do?" I moaned.

"How should I know?" She snapped. "We have all these puzzle pieces-"

"And no picture to look at." I finished.

"I still don't like that desk!" Sam complained, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Again, I feel compelled to point out that it's only _a desk_."

"Yes, but something about it is bothering me!"

"Do you think it was enchanted by a ghost to murder me?" I joked.

"No, because you'd never seen one. We need to think of people who would have _wanted _to kill you." Sam pointed out.

"Dashell Baxter." I answered automatically.

"My- ah, Samantha's parents."

I stayed silent. "I can't think of anybody else."

"Grr! I wish I knew- Grr! If only that stupid article had said- Grr!"

"Sam, you growled three times. That's got to be a record. Now, what do you want to know?"

"How you died!" She answered.

"Well, you could have asked me." I said. "I was stabbed in the heart. Bled to death." It made me uncomfortable to talk about it. It made me uncomfortable to talk about anything that revolved around her mortality and my being deadness.

"Like Samantha." Sam mused. I remembered the bloody patch on the skeleton's dress.

"Do you think the same person did it?"

"No."

"How can you be so sure?"

"What reason would someone have for killing the both of us?"

"Well, we were getting married."

"Yes, but you were killed four days before Samantha. And with you out of the picture there would be no wedding."

"You got engaged to Tucker though, is there anyone who wouldn't have wanted that?"

"We're not talking about Samantha's murder!" Sam sighed. "But, not that I know of. One thing is bothering me though."

"The desk?" I guessed.

"That too, but, no. Where's the murder weapon?"

**The desk idea was from NarutoxxAddict. Chapters are getting shorter because we are nearing the end of the story and I want you to sit in your seats, begging for more. Just because I'm evil like that.**

**BluFox15, here's the answer to your question:**

_**I was wondering, if the Fentons are in the play, why aren't the Mansons? Wouldn't they love the attention?**_

**The show is to low grade for the Manson's. Not, big, enough. Plus, they have plans to be in the Carribean for the show nights.**

**If anyone has anymore questions please, feel free to ask, I try not to add any confusion to my stories, but what might make sense to you may not make sense to me.I do believe none of you will expect the ending. Yes, I am challenging all of you who think that they can crack the case! It's not incredibly obvious, but I think I dropped a few clues that might lead you close to the train of thought I am currently following. Ah, good luck. **

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own story will probably be coming to a closing soon, but, that just leaves room for more things to come through. I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	17. She Was That Breathtaking

Where's the murder weapon? That thought had been following me since Sam had uttered the words. It was now a day later. And I was at play practice. Where I was having lots of fun. Insert sarcastic something or other. I was stuck backstage. My costume had come in, it had taken all of my willpower to do what Sam had asked me to, and not yell that I preffered not wearing orange. Luckily, the evil thing (really, orange is what Dashell paraded around in) didn't fit and I was getting a brown one instead.

Jayne was talking to Sam as she threw dress after dress over the door of the dressing room Sam was occupying. I looked casually at the discarded wedding dresses, lying on the floor. Some were huge and puffy, others skin tight. Sam complained she couldn't breathe.

"Sam," Jayne sounded tired and frustrated. "This is the last dress. Try it on. Come out, show me. You are wearing this one if it fits." Jayne tossed a bundle of white and walked toward me. "I've gotta go talk to Chass, make sure she doesn't burn the dress. I went and slumped in front of the dressing room, my back against the wall.

"I look horrible!" Sam cried from inside the dressing room.

"It can't be that bad!" I argued. She could never look horrible to me.

"Oh, great. You're out there. I thought it was Jayne who would see me like this." Sam let loose a low curse. I had to wonder what she was so worked out about. She was perfect in everyway. Change her, and I'll hit you. Try, and _she'll_ hit you. "Yes, it can look this horrible." Sam yelled out, bringing me back to our original argument. I almost rolled my eyes at the statement, but refrained because somehow she would know if I had. Almost like her ability to predict that I was in the room.

"Just come out." I coaxed, my curiousity getting the better of me. I had to know what she looked like.

"NO!" Always defiant. I almost chuckled to myself. I hoped she would never change.

"Come out or I'll come in!" I threatened, hoping no one heard that. I can imagine what they would say. Not that I cared much, but people already looked at me like I was weird (which I was but they didn't need to know how weird).

"Fine," That word. "You perverted little . . ." The rest of her rant I couldn't make out but I felt relieved not too.

The knob on the door turned and Sam stepped out.

I wasn't capable of thought, speech or movement, I could only stand there and hope I wasn't drooling.

She was that breathtaking.

Sam was in a sleevless white wedding dress. The bodice was silver with twirling designs on it the colour of pearl. The long skirt that trailed on the floor was a silky, creamy white. Her long hair was down and curled gently where it ended at the small of her back. It was covered with a gauzy see through veil that trailed all the way down her back and floated to a stop at the floor.

Sam's lips were tinted with glass and her eyelashes were curled and covered in black in a way that made her amazing amethyst eyes look huge and empasized her pretty pale face. Every time she blinked her eyelids glittered.

She was _that_ breathtaking.

"Earth to Danny," Sam called, waving her hand in front of my face. I started, and realized to my embarrassment that I had been drooling.

"Wow," I managed, still staring. The dress fit all the right places. It was like the dress had been made for her . . . "It looks made for you."

"It was. This was going to be Samantha's wedding dress." That tossed me a bit, but I regained footing.

"Whoa. So how did it end up here?"

"My parents donated it."

"Oh. How could you think you looked horrible in the dress you were born twice to wear?" Sam clapped her hand over my mouth, her eyes dancing.

"You stayed here to see it." She reminded me.

"I didn't stay for just the dress," I gave her a small smile. She gave a smirk in reply, and soon my lips were on hers and she wasn't letting go of me anytime soon.

Someone let a cough out behind us and we jumped apart. We turned toward the source of the sound. Tucker was standing there, looking red.

"Jayne wants to see the dress and Lisa's making a quick announcement before we start with the actual rehearsing."

"Thanks, Tuck. We're coming." Sam gathered up her skirts and followed her friend out. I had no choice but to complete the line.

Jayne was standing by Chass and when she caught sight of Sam she let out a scream that nearly popped my eardrums.

"YOU LOOK GORGEOUS!" Of course, that made everyone turn toward us and stare. Jayne ran and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling her onstage. I winced as Sam did, the dress not covering the nail marks let by her mother.

"Lisa, Terry, look _at_ this." Lisa turned and her eyes nearly bugged out. Terry's jaw almost literally hit the floor.

"De's bine!" Dash yelled, still talking funny because of his nose.

"She is most certainly _NOT_ yours!" Sam yelled.

"Good, because you're not good enough for him!" Paulina stood up possessively for her crush.

"I don't want to be good enough if it means idiots like him will be what I deserve." Paulina remained silent and Sam turned turned her back to the girls on stage and went and sat down beside me in the adience.

"We've been rehearsing _very_ hard and, we've decided to start rehearsing with costumes. So, we'll start with the scene before Saamantha is told of Daniel's death."Lisa commanded.

Sam and I went behind the curtain. Sam seemed deep in thought. I reflected on the play and, more specifically, the ending. In the end Tucker was charged with Daniel's murder (Samantha having been already promised to a rich cousin across the country), Valerie married a Mr. Lancer and so-on. It made me wonder, could my best friend really have done it? Tucker and Valerie were on stage, and Tucker was holding the fake knife that Madeline and Jack had given him, saying that I would have wanted him to have it. Well, not me, but Daniel, well, technicallly, me but . . . YOU GET THE IDEA!

Suddenly Sam gasped. A clap of thunder rang out. Valerie looked Sam straight in the eye, before returning her attention to the stage. Sam darted to behind the costume rack and pulled open the back door. She darted out in the rain. I ran after her, what other choice did I have? Sam poounded down the sidewalk and darted into the woods. It hit me a few minutes later where she was going.

She pulled open the door to the house and I shut it. The house was eerie, as though waiting for something to happen. I followed Sam's muddy footprints into my parents room, where she was crouched in front of the desk.

"I knew there was something I didn't like about it." She pulled open the empty drawer. And she pulled open the bottom. "It had been shallower." She mused. A false bottom. Sam pulled out a leather book. "Danny, sit down." I sat obediantly. Still lost. "Listen." Her voice was little more than a whisper."

"June twenty-fourth, eighteen twelve. It was probably stupid to leave this, telling people who killed Daniel, how I killed Daniel, and why I killed Daniel, but I felt I must leave this behind, so that if anyone ever finds it, they should know the truth.

"How: I stabbed him in the heart with his penknife. Why the knife? I had always admired it, and so did Daniel, it was his prized possesion. That and he had a history with it that I longed too. He and Samantha shared the history.

"Why: I loved Samantha, with all of my heart. I couldn't see what she saw in Daniel, but there must have been something. I knew she could never feel the same way about me, never look at me the same, but I wanted, no, needed to have her. I just couldn't let go. Sure, I pretended to like someone else, but, it was her I wanted. No one else. When I was told that she and Daniel were getting married. I got jealous. More than jealous. I snuck into his room and killed him in his sleep. He never woke up and saw me.

"I'm upset that I did it now, but I can't change the past, no matter how recent it was. I will miss you Daniel, and I plan on asking Samantha to marry me. Do not worry. I shall take good care of her, where you are no longer able too. I am so sorry.

"_Tucker Foley._"

My world tilted. Tucker killed me? Tucker? TUCKER? My once best friend? I sat there gaping for air. Sam flipped the page over. "There's more." More? How could there be more? Who would write more? "It's my death." Did Tucker decide that he didn't want Samantha anymore? Did he kill her? Will I stop asking these questions?

"Read it." I let out.

"June twenty-fourth eighteen twelve. I don't know why I wrote this down. I suppose it was a way of cleansing my conscience of murdering her. It was decided that the record of Samantha's death would be written with Daniel's. It was only right. Wanting to be together in life, being together in deat. Now is where the truth comes out. Final and bittersweet in the gruesome glory.

"How did I kill her? With the penknife of course. It killed Daniel, it should only be her last too.

"Why? She was engaged to Tucker. I loved Tucker. Loved him that I needed him like air to breathe. I couldn't let her have him, I fought so hard for him to be mine, I couldn't just lose him now. Especially not to her.

"I killed her at night. I murdered her in her bed, but I couldn't leave her there. I was going to bury her in Daniel's grave, the soil would have been easy to move. I picked up the body and made it to the Fenton's. By then dawn was breaking and I could see someone moving. I abandoned her in the rose garden. Close enough. Same property. Tonight Tucker and I will sneak into the Fenton home. I'll leave a note on the table telling them where Samantha is, in so many words, of course. We'll move Daniel's desk and hide this journal in the false bottom. The truth will stare them in the face, and as far as we know, we'll get away with it because law enforcment is not all that great. I'll marry Tucker and we'll live happily ever after.

"Sorry Samantha,

"_Valerie Gray_."

My head shot up, I did not see that coming. I moved over to Sam and put my arm around her. Sam sat the journal in my lap and reached into the desk drawer again. She pulled out a blood encrusted penknife with a knick in the side.

**I love the description of Sam. I think it is the best I've ever done and it was the only part of the story that was written out before I started the chapter. Is it worthy of my pride? I know dresses didn't look like that but remember, I don't care about historical accuracy. So, all questions answered. Mostly. There will be **_**two**_** more chapters. Isn't it sad? Oh well. **

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own story will probably be coming to a closing soon, but, that just leaves room for more things to come through. I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	18. A Scream

I took the knife from her. I stared at it and felt tears prick my eyes. The blood. _My_ blood. _Her_ blood. Lives were ruined because of greed and want. Whole worlds were destroyed because someone wanted something that they couldn't have. I was dead because of Tucker. My best friend. He was like my brother. We did everything together when we were younger and he never let on. Maybe if he had told me things would have been different . . .

But he didn't tell me. And I died because of it, and then she died because of Valerie. The truth is a very hard thing to accept when you've been ignoring it all your years. I think, that somehow, deep down, I didn't want to look for the truth because I knew what it would reveal. And it's killing me inside.

Sam hand touched my arm and I turned to her. Her face was sorrowful, drawn in. "Do you think Tucker knows?" I had to ask. I felt so bad for the Foley's. The (modern) Fenton's would sue and do some other legal stuff and the Foley's couldn't afford anything like that. They were strong and knew that they could get by, but they wouldn't be able to get a lawyer, and with the truth written out, it was undeniable.

"He would have too, he knew that the eighteen hundreds is when his family got 'mixed up.'" I looked sadly at her. "Everything will be all right."

"At least now we have the truth and all of this can be put behind us. We can just lay back and enjoy everything while we still can." I muttered, thinking of how she had a life to live, and I had already breathed my last breath.

"Time's run out, Danny. My parents are making me move to Florida. We leave in two weeks . . ."

"And I can't leave Amity." I finished. That did it. I collapsed. Emotions had exploded, my sanity had finally completely worn away. I wrapped my arms around her and cried. I couldn't help it. Can you honestly say you wouldn't? She buried her face in the side of my neck while I sobbed on her shoulder.

I just breathed in the sweet smell of Sam, like liliacs and roses, and something unnameable. I took deep breaths and attempted to calm myself Danny.

"At least now we know, even if it is hard to accept." Sam whispered in my ear, rubbing little circles on my back, I felt myself leaning into her touch.

"We should go, Lisa and everyone are probably wondering where we are," I said as a clap of thunder sounded and rain spattered against the window pane. I stood and offered Sam my hand. She took it and pulled herself to her feet, the dress swirling around her.

"I never thought Valerie and Tucker would do something like that." I commented, heading for the door.

"Believe it." Came a recognizable voice. Valerie Gray, ah, modern Valerie Gray.

"You thought that Sam was the only one to get reincarnated? Think again. We're all here, Daniel. Everyone." Came a second male voice. Tucker's. Modern Tucker, who was also ancient Tucker who . . . YOU GET IT! I stared at them

They stood in the doorway, dressed in their play clothes, looking like perfect recreations of the originals, which, I guess they were. Valerie looked at Sam with pure hatred, Tucker was looking at me, a strange demented light shining in his emerald eyes. Valerie stepped toward me and Tuck toward me. I backed up, and was instantly trapped. I am sad to say that I momentarily forgot that I had ghost powers.

A window blew open and the room was illuminated from a flash of lightning, and Sam was standing in front of the window. She looked so beautiful . . . I was stunned. Even moreso that when I saw her in her dress for the first time.

Her hair was tangled, looking wild and untamed like her personality. Her dressed was ripped at the bottom, some going up to her knee, her veil too was ripped. Her pale face shone and her eyes danced with emotions so passionate . . . I was lost. And I am proud enough to admit it.

"You stole Tucker." Valerie growled. Sam's face was set in defiance.

"Why bring up ancient grudges? And I never intentionally hurt you Valerie. He proposed, law required I say yes." Sam replied, voice cold, I swear, the rain turned to hail.

"You stole Tucker." I tried to leap toward Sam, seeing what would happen, but, Tucker blocked me, grabbing me by the neck. Again, I forgot about my ghost powers in my distress.

Valerie picked up the penknife, clutched it hard. "The blood of the loved is left in the heart." She whispered menacingly.

Sam tried to move away from the window, but ended up cornered. Valerie clenched a fist around the knife and it was plunged through Sam's heart.

Her now lifeless corpse fell to the ground. I screamed. It was a scream of pain, it was earthreal and I felt a fury burning inside of me. I turned my eyes on Tucker, but he and Valerie had already gone.

I felt drained, and fell to Sam, my body draped over hers, my eyes unable to cry anymore tears.

**So, how many threats would I get if I said that this is the very end, no more chapters? Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Luckily (for me or you pick one) there will be an epilouge, and then I am done with **_**Pointless**_**. Save for a few one-shots that shall probably come out at random. I posted a new fic today,**_** Legacy**_**, so that will probably very quickly take my obsession (sorry **_**Silence**_** fans).**

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


	19. The Ghost Zone

I stared ahead of me, blankly. My eyes saw every perfect little detail, yet I ignored it all. The beauty of the world now hurt. We buried her yesterday, so, now she's gone. Gone a long way down. I blinked in the bright sunlight. I was dressed as a human this one last time.

This was the last time I ever wanted to set eyes on Tucker Foley or Valerie Gray. Tucker and Valerie had admitted that they'd done it! They sounded proud! I wanted to kill them. I asked Tucker one question after, and one question only.

I saw him before he and Valerie were taken away. "Why hold me back?" I asked, my voice scratchy from crying and unuse.

"So I could garuntee she died. I _never_ liked you Daniel. I hated you with every fibre of me being. And when I heard how you got Sam, I couldn't handle it. When you got her again, she was better off dead than with you!" He spit in my face and was forced away from me.

So now I walk brokenly. I staggered to the park, and with no witnesses around, I turned into Danny Phantom and disappeared into the Ghost Zone.

I moved, thinking of going and sulking in my lair, when Walker came flying toward me. Catching sight of me, he dropped to his knees at my feet.

"What do you want?" I growled, not in the mood.

"Save me!" He pleaded, hands held in prayer.

_What? _"From what?" He was a ghost for crying out loud.

"ME TOO!" Yelled Desiree flying toward me followed by a lot of ghosts. In fact, every ghost in the Ghost Zone except Skulker and Vlad, but, Vlad doesn't count. He's half-ghost, half-human.

"From what?" I had to ask. They all glanced at each other, fright on every face. Honestly, if they weren't already dead they would have looked scared to death.

Skulker landed behind me. "There's a new ghost!"

"And . . .?" There were a lot of new ghosts. Usually they left to move on, why we didn't, I don't know, but there hadn't been a permanent member to 'the old crew' in a long time. Why would this ghost be any different?

"This ghost is the meanest thing you'll ever see!" Ember complained. "She broke my guitar!" I realized then, that this ghost (obviously not yet named) had scared every one of these 'fearless ghosts.' I felt a strrange thrill, proud of whoever had done this, no matter how evil, or what they could do to me.

"Please, get rid of it!" Lunch Lady begged. They wanted me to try what all of them had failed at. I shrugged, what did I have to lose? I followed the Box Ghost to where this ghost was. I could see the nameless ghost but Vlad was getting beat up.

"Do we have to do this right now?" I asked, motioning to the much hated halfa. They all shook their heads. _Karma. I love it._ I thought.

After many, many, many shots, Vlad disappeared. I floated down to where this new ghost was standing.

I gaped as she turned around. It wasn't possible, not at all yet, there she was. Tangled hair, ripped wedding gown, ripped veil, sparkly eyelids, dancing eyes, exactly like I had last saw her. Sam. Her amethyst eyes bolted open when she saw me.

I don't know how it happened, but she was in my arms, and her lips were on mine, legs circled around my waist as I just pulled her closer.

I don't know what trouble we'll face next, or if we'll just live happily ever after, wait, what am I saying? It's me and Sam, so of course, fighting, screaming, passion, I could make a lot of money making a soap opera out of our afterlives. I'll call it _The Ghost Zone_ and Ember can be a star. Snort.

But, all that matters now is that I have Sam, and that's all I ever wanted.

And that's all I'll ever need.

**Thanks to Greenmint for Danny's question. I know nothing about the Ghost 's it. The end! HUZZAH! I can't believe I actually finished it, my second finished fic, and my first finished Danny Phantom fic!**

**Thank you to my reviewers and readers! I don't think I would have posted as much as I did without you. Oh, look, I'm getting sappy, I hate sap, as I believe I have said before. But thank you anyway. Special thanks to NarutoxxAddict for the wonderful reviews, wonderful long reviews! **

**I am done with **_**Pointless**_**. Save for a few one-shots that shall probably come out at random. I posted a new fic,**_** Legacy**_**, so that will probably very quickly take my obsession (sorry **_**Silence**_** fans).**

**I have some Danny Phantom summaries that I'm willing to hand out if anyone needs something to write. Just pm me. Ideas are appreciated, you'll get your credit. Complaints ignored unless it's in the form of constructive criticism. Reviews motivate me. Don't own I hope some of you will check out my other fics.**

**Goodnight, Goodnight, Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight, till it be morrow.**

**~DI4MGZ~**


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